


Arabian Knight

by MacFran2018



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Detectives, Drama, Fantasy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacFran2018/pseuds/MacFran2018
Summary: After a magic wish makes homicide detective Nick Knight mortal again, his new human life takes a tragic turn.





	1. The Wish Box

    Detective Nick Knight pulled his caddie to a stop alongside several other police vehicles that were parked outside a well-manicured home in an upscale neighborhood. It was the type of house he might indulge himself in if he weren't pretending to be just your average Joe living on a cop's salary. After flashing his badge to the rookie guarding the entrance, the direction to the crime scene was pointed out to him. Through the foyer and upstairs in the master bedroom was where the main action was taking place. He got a glimpse of a body on the bed and saw the flashes of a camera as the scene was being documented. Knowing that he would have to wait a while longer before going in, Nick bypassed the bedroom and headed for a room further down the hallway where his keen hearing had already picked up on a recognizable voice. He discovered his partner, Don Schanke speaking to a tearful, older black woman wearing a maid's uniform.  
  
    "Nick," Schanke interrupted his conversation with the woman to acknowledge the presence of his partner. He quickly introduced him to the woman he'd been interviewing. "Ma'am, this is my partner Detective Knight. Nick, this is Mrs. Saundra McNeil. She works – _worked_ – for the deceased. She was doing some cleaning downstairs when she heard a gunshot. She came up here, knocked on the bedroom door, didn't get an answer, found the door locked, became concerned and called the police. The boys in blue arrived, and after getting no response from inside, decided to jimmy open the door. They found the late Mr. Stanley Melville dead of an apparently self-inflicted gunshot wound."  
  
    "Mrs. McNeil," Nick spoke softly to the woman, "Do you reside in this house?"  
  
    "No, sir. I just come in to clean three times a week."  
  
    "Did you see or talk much to Mr. Melville?"  
  
    "Only a few minutes at a time. I've only been working for him a few months. He was what you'd call a swinging bachelor. He liked throwing parties and inviting pretty women over. Seems like I was cleaning up after a different woman every week. But he was a nice man. He'd always ask how my family was doing and he'd tell me what a good job I do for him, and he liked to tip me a few extra dollars."  
  
    "So, what you've seen of him," Nick queried, "he seemed pretty contented, did he?"  
  
    The woman nodded. "Yes. Up until recently, that is. The last couple of weeks, I could see that he was pretty upset about something."  
  
    "How could you tell that he was upset?" asked Schanke.  
  
    "I could hear him yelling and cursing."  
  
    "At who?"  
  
    "At himself, I guess. He was mad because he couldn't solve that puzzle."  
  
    "Puzzle?" both Nick and Schanke questioned at the same time.  
  
    "For the past two weeks he was always home when I came to work. He'd walk around with this little square puzzle, sort of like a Rubik's cube I guess. He spent hours at a time just twisting and sliding the pieces this way and that, and getting real frustrated that he couldn't figure it out. You know, I've seen people get kind of hooked on video games and stuff, but never anything like that. He was acting like...." The woman's words trailed off as she reflected on her late employee's behavior.  
  
    "Like what?" Nick prodded.  
  
    "He was acting like his very life depended on getting that little puzzle solved."  
  
    "Looks like it did," said Schanke with a mild grunt.  
  
    "Mrs. McNeil, would you happen to know if Mr. Melville has any close relatives we can contact?" Nick asked the housekeeper.  
  
    "None that I know of. He never mentioned any and I haven't seen any family pictures around the place. I kind of get the feeling he was a very lonely man not too long ago. Back before he came into all that money."  
  
    "What'd he do?" asked Schanke. "Win the lottery?"  
  
    "No, he was one of those people who would pick through other folk's trash for stuff he could fix up and resale. He told me that he came across a painting somebody threw out, and he picked it up because it had a good frame. When he started to clean the frame, some of the paint came off the painting and he saw that there was another painting underneath. Long story short, he found out he had an original Picasso and he auctioned it off for 2.3 million dollars."  
  
    Schanke whistled his amazement. "Man, some guys have all the luck."  
  
    "Seems like life was good to him for awhile," said Mrs. McNeil thoughtfully. "But then he started obsessing over that puzzle. And it was like nothing else mattered anymore. I accidentally threw it in the garbage the other day when I was cleaning his room and he really freaked out. He managed to rescue it just before the garbage man came to pick up. I remember thinking that if he hadn't gotten it back then, he probably would've gone completely insane. But I never thought he'd do something like this."  
  
    "Thank you, Mrs. McNeil for your help," said Nick, bringing the interview to an end. "I'm sure this has been a rather disturbing ordeal for you, so we won't hold you here any longer." Nick motioned to an officer standing in the hallway. "This gentleman will escort you out."  
  
    "Can you imagine that?" said Schanke after the housekeeper had been led away. "A guy's got all this," indicating the home which he'd never be able to afford on a cop's salary, "money, a different woman every week.... And he chucks it all because he can't solve a Rubik's cube?"  
  
    "I'm sure there's more to it than that, Schanke," replied Nick as he peaked around the doorway and noted the police photographer leaving the crime scene. "Looks like they've finished the preliminaries. Let's go take a look."  
  
    Natalie Lambert was bent over the body lying partially crossways on the bed. The smell of blood and the vision of splattered brains on the pale blue sheets seemed to have no ill effect on her senses. She was carefully examining the hand with a gun still loosely clenched within its grasp when in walked two of her favorite detectives. She glanced up and greeted them with a hint of a smile.  
  
    "Hi, guys."  
  
    "Hi, Nat," they each responded in kind.  
  
    "So what do you think?" Nick asked, keeping his distance a bit to keep the massive amount of blood from triggering his vampire responses.  
  
    "Well, so far, it's looking like suicide. It appears that he sat down on the edge of the bed, held the gun with both hands, placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger."  
  
    "Was there a note?"  
  
    "Haven't found one yet. I've still got some more to do here, so maybe you guys can just have a look around."  
  
    Nick nodded, then with a pointed finger, indicated that Schanke should search the left side of the room while he checked the right. The room showed no signs of struggle or forced entry. The windows were locked, indicating that no one had exited through them. Cash and other items of value were found lying on the dresser. Picking up the man's wallet and scanning the contents, Nick noticed something interesting. He walked back over to Natalie and showed her Stanley Melville's driver's license.  
  
    "Nat, would you say that the man on this license is the same as the man on the bed?"  
  
    Natalie paused in her examination to compare the photo ID to the deceased. Disregarding the fact that driver license photos were notoriously unflattering, it was clear to see that the man had changed considerably since it was taken. Nat perused the photo with a magnifying glass, then finally nodded.  
  
    "Well, he's obviously lost a lot of weight and he's apparently had a hair transplant, but everything else including that little mole on his chin and the green eyes are the same. It's him, Nick."  
  
    After she handed the license back to him, Nick studied it again. Something just didn't seem right. "According to this license, Mr. Melville was weighing in at 315 pounds. He looks like he's probably – what 160, 150 now?"  
  
    "Your point?"  
  
    "Nat, this license was renewed barely four months ago. That's about forty pounds a month. Is it normal to lose that kind of weight that quickly?"  
  
    "No, no it's not. He may have had some kind of illness or physical disorder. I'll check it out back at the lab. That just might be the answer to why he did this."  
  
    "Hey, Nick," Schanke called out as he stooped down to pick something out of the trash basket near the closet. "You think this is the thing the maid was talking about?"  
  
    Nick walked over to his partner and took the object he held. "I think so. It's a Chinese puzzle box. I've seen quite a few in my time but never one quite like this."  
  
    "What's so special about it that the guy would kill himself over it?"  
  
    Natalie approached Nick and Schanke, having taken an interest in their conversation. "What do you mean? He killed himself over what?"  
  
    "The maid said that for the past couple of weeks the guy has been obsessed with trying to solve this puzzle, like his life depended on it."  
  
    "I know of a legend," said Nick, "about an ancient Chinese wish box. The story goes that, if you can solve the puzzle, the box opens and grants you one wish. The puzzle then resets itself and to gain another wish, you have to solve it again. Only the puzzle is always different and it's supposedly harder to figure out the second time around. On the third try, it gets even harder and after that, it becomes virtually impossible to solve."  
  
    "So you're saying that Mr. Melville was trying to solve the puzzle to make a wish come true?" asked Nat.  
  
    "Then went wacko when he couldn't figure it out?" Schanke added.  
  
    "I don't know," said Nick with a thoughtful shrug. "It's just a legend. A fable. I've heard thousands of them."  
  
\--------------  
Baghdad - 1258  
\--------------

    Sand. Everywhere he looked for miles and miles, there was nothing but sand. Nicholas couldn't understand why his master had dragged him out to such a barren wasteland. They had flown nearly non-stop all night to reach the palace before daybreak. Once there however, the accommodations were so plush and their host so obliging, that being stuck out in the middle of nowhere was less frightening for the young vampire. LaCroix had been invited to meet with the Arabian King and offer his wartime expertise in defending the country against the impending Mongolian invasion. With a few well-worded hypnotic suggestions from LaCroix, the king made sure that his guests' every need was graciously met.  
  
    A bevy of harem girls were assigned to entertain and serve them. His master had cautioned him about being greedy or messy, but apparently it was understood that during their week-long stay, the king's extensive harem would be reduced by a dozen or so. It was a chance for the king to rid himself of the less desirable of his many wives.  
  
    On his fourth night in the palace, the young woman who was sent to his chambers to entertain him proved to be somewhat different than her predecessors. The first had been loud and obnoxious, babbling and giggling incessantly. The second had been rather tall with a manly build. Nicholas felt compelled to check her sex afterwards just to make sure that indeed she had been female. The third woman was very unattractive and less than graceful both in movement and in speech. Normally, Nicholas preferred to make love or at least steal a few kisses before reducing his women to dinner, but with what had been in the offering thus far had made him only want to take their blood quickly and dispose of the body as soon as possible.  
  
    As he lounged back on the plush cushions of his bed, he had already prepared himself for the worse. He sighed deeply as he pictured an older, toothless hag with leathery skin and long breasts, hobbling through the door. He was more than just a little amazed when a lissome young woman entered his chambers and lowered her veil. She was easy on the eye, with a sensual smile, exotic, cat-like eyes and flawless skin. Nicholas sat up instantly, thinking that perhaps there had been some mistake. The exquisite creature before him was not possibly meant to be sacrificed.  
  
    "Are you sure you have come to the right place?" he found himself questioning her presence.  
  
    "You are Nicholas, are you not?" came the reply.  
  
    "Yes. You are my entertainment for the night?"  
  
    "If entertainment is indeed what you seek, I am here to provide it."  
  
    "You think I seek something else?"  
  
    "I know of others who have come to entertain you. They have not been seen or heard from again. I imagine they displeased you?"  
  
    "I did find their company as well as their beauty somewhat lacking."  
  
    "I hope I do not displease you."  
  
    "No, on the contrary, I find you quite refreshing. The others the king have sent to me were not half as enchanting as yourself."  
  
    "Is that why you killed them?"  
  
    He was surprised by her question and wondered if she knew exactly what he was and what he had planned for her. Nicholas rose from the bed and circled her slowly, eyeing her hungrily. "That was one of the reasons I killed them," he replied honestly. "It was obvious that the king no longer desired them. Is there some reason that he no longer desires you as well?"  
  
    "Not him, but some of his other wives are jealous of me. They have banded together to have me removed from the palace one way or another. But I do not wish to die. Perhaps if I please you well, you will not kill me?"  
  
    Though he had already decided to take his time with this beauty, stretching out her death over a period of two or three nights, the thought of not killing her had not crossed his mind. He had yet to feed from someone and not kill them, so making her such a promise would not be easily kept.  
  
    "If you please me well tonight," he made the offer, "I will spare your life tonight. But you will return tomorrow night and attempt to please me again."  
  
    She readily accepted the challenge. She was smart enough not to do anything that would tempt him physically. She replaced her veil and kept her distance as she began to tell him of far away places filled with magic and marvel.  
  
\--------  
Present  
\--------  
  
    "Earth to Nick. Yo! Knight!"  
  
    Nick snapped alert at the insistent voice in his ear, embarrassed by his inward distractions from the past. "Sorry, Schanke, what did you say?"  
  
    "Just where is that planet you visit all the time? What, you get frequent flyer miles or something?"  
  
    "Sorry, just remembering some stuff."  
  
    "Yeah, pick me up a postcard next time, huh? A little wish you were here?"  
  
    "Okay, Schanke, I'm back now. You find anything else?"  
  
    "Nah. Nothing that suggests that this was anything other than self-sayonara. Looks like the guy just offed himself."  
  
    "Yeah, I'm inclined to agree."  
  
    Schanke gave a nod towards the Chinese puzzle box his partner still held in his hands. "You think maybe we should tag that as evidence? You know, if he did kill himself because of it, maybe the next of kin can use it to sue the manufacturer. A lot of that's going around these days."  
  
    Nick turned the item over in his hands and studied it carefully. The fine craftsmanship and the use of dark green jade with white marble in its creation helped Nick to loosely tag its age. He knew it was well over a thousand years old, but decided to play down that fact. "Whoever made this is long gone, Schanke. This is hundreds of years old. It's possible that Mr. Melville found this in the same pile of trash he discovered the Picasso painting."  
  
    "So, it's an antique then. How much you figure it's worth?"  
  
    "Apparently, a man's life." Nick tossed the puzzle back to Schanke, essentially allowing him to decide what to do with the object.  
  
\--------  
  
    The investigation into Stanley Melville's death moved rather quickly. Medical reports revealed that Mr. Melville had a serious glandular problem that accounted for his abnormal weight loss. His condition had been incurable and within a couple more weeks he would have been bedridden, facing a slow and painful death. It was the consensus that his bad health had led him to end his life prematurely.  
  
    "You know, I've been thinking," said Schanke as he reached for something in his bottom, desk drawer.  
  
    "In public?" Nick teased.  
  
    "Good one, Knight. About this thing." He pulled out the Chinese puzzle box still wrapped in the plastic bag he had used to tag it as evidence.  
  
    "What are you doing with that? Shouldn't it be in the evidence room? Or back in Mr. Melville's trash bin?"  
  
    "Well, it's not really evidence because it was never actually part of a crime. And the guy had thrown it in the trash, so that meant he never intended to pass it on to any next of kin, not that we were ever able to locate any."  
  
    "So you figure it's yours because you rescued it from the trash?"  
  
    "Well, let's not get into the technicalities of who it belongs to right now. I was thinking that maybe there's something to this. Listen to this. What if Melville found this in someone's trash, played around with it and solved the puzzle, then finds out he's got a wish coming to him. So, being a poor slob, the first thing he wishes for is a bucket-load of money. Next thing you know, he's cleaning off a frame and presto, a two-million-dollar-plus painting pops up. That's wish number one."  
  
    Nick smiled as he placed his elbows on his desk and propped his chin atop his folded hands. He usually didn't enjoy listening to his partner's theories because they were so often contradictory to his own, but this particular theory promised to be rather entertaining. "Go on," said Nick, to show he was actually paying attention.  
  
    "Okay, so the guy's got money now. He can afford a fancy car and a great house in a snazzy neighborhood. Now, he wants to attract women."  
  
    "Wouldn't the money do that?" asked Nick.  
  
    "Yeah, of course. But not every woman is attracted by money alone. Some insist that you have good looks as well. They want the guy to have a trim physique and a full head of hair. Four months ago, Melville's got less hair than I have. Then all of a sudden, he's got a mop full of wavy brown locks. Wish number two."  
  
    "You think he wished for hair?"  
  
    "Hey, you think I don't look in the mirror at times and wish for the seventies again? Man, I thought I'd never become synonymous with the words thinning and receding."  
  
    "Okay, so he wishes for hair," Nick concedes. "Then what?"  
  
    "He's got hair, he's got money, but he's a bit on the heavy side. I checked out his closet, Nick. He still had some of his fat clothes there, probably as a reminder. And I'm telling you; he lied on his license. He weighed a lot more than three-fifteen. My guess would be three-fifty at the least."  
  
    "So he wishes that he could lose weight," Nick finished his partner's theory.  
  
    "Bingo. The medical reports show that his condition came on suddenly. He was losing weight at a rapid pace, and he was probably ecstatic about it at first. He was trimming down and looking good, but then he figures that something's wrong. He couldn't _stop_ losing the weight."  
  
    "So he spends all his time trying to solve the puzzle so he can make another wish to save his life?" Nick hypothesized.  
  
    "Two weeks later and he still can't solve it, and he finally realizes he never will."  
  
    The sudden awareness of what he might be holding in his hands sent a chill through Schanke and he instantly dropped the puzzle onto the desk. Nick picked it up and removed it from the plastic bag.  
  
    "Hey," Schanke spoke while backing his chair away from his desk a few inches, "maybe... maybe we shouldn't fool around with that thing."  
  
    "Schanke, that was just a legend, okay? This," Nick emphasized as he held up the cube, "was created to entertain, to pass away idle time." Without giving it much thought, Nick began to randomly twist and slide parts of the puzzle into new positions. "It's nothing to be afraid of. It's merely a toy."  
  
    "I knew that," said Schanke defensively. "But it's just kind of creepy when you stop to think about it. I mean, you'd really have to be careful what you wish for, right? I hear people wishing they could lose weight all the time, but they usually specify a few pounds or fifty or whatever. My guess is that this guy never specified how much he wanted to–" Schanke instantly lost his trail of thought when he heard a strange clicking noise. His eyes focused on Nick and he glared in both horror and amazement as the object in Nick's hand began to open up like a blossoming flower.


	2. A Wish is Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick's dream of becoming mortal again comes true, leading to some unfortunate consequences.

Nick never thought that he'd be able to solve the puzzle so easily, but as he began repositioning the pieces, he saw a distinctive pattern beginning to emerge. There was a picture of a jade dragon whose head was on one side of the cube while the body wrapped itself around the other sides. Its feet were on the bottom and wings stretched out along the top. The puzzle practically solved itself and as the last twist completed the pattern, Nick felt the cube shift in his hands. It began a series of clicks as the tiled six sides began to collapse open like a cardboard box being flattened out. In the center of the flattened cube was a crystal sphere, measuring three inches in diameter. Inside the sphere was a swirling of blue smoke which slowly twisted and curled to form the words, 'Make a wish.'

"Man oh man oh man!" Schanke exclaimed loudly. He glanced around the squad room to see if his outburst had drawn the attention of others. The place was bustling with activity, and even if his fellow co-workers had not been otherwise occupied, they apparently had learned to ignore the sound of his loud mouth. Also, if anyone had looked, the computer monitors and stacks of paperwork on Nick and Schanke's facing desks basically obscured the view of the sphere from those nearby.

"Man, oh man, it's for real!" Schanke stated excitedly, keeping his voice low.

Nick glanced up at him momentarily, then brought his eyes back down to stare at the sphere, unsure of what to think or what to do. No, he had not seen this before, but this was undeniably the one he had been told about so many centuries ago.

\-------------------  
Baghdad - 1258  
\-------------------

Her name was Shalimar and she had told him one fascinating story after another. Between the soft cadence of her voice when she spoke and the rich descriptions of her carefully crafted tales, she had kept the vampire completely entranced. He kept his word and spared her life that first night. There were several other women that had been picked to fulfill his needs and Nicholas saw no harm in changing the order. Shalimar had agreed to return the following night to engage him with even more delightful tales. Nicholas warned her against breaking her word. If he were forced to hunt her down, he made it very clear that he would not be kind upon finding her.

At the appointed time, the following night, she arrived just as she had before with her veil hiding her face. Again she kept her distance from him, sticking close by the door and refusing to sit. There was no way she could have known that he could reach her from anywhere in the room in less than an eyeblink, but if she imagined herself safe by keeping several feet of space between them, he would allow it. Nicholas lay back against the cushions of the bed and peacefully listened as she began a new story.

"I shall now tell you about the magic box which gives its owner three wishes."

"Did you not recite that one last night?" Nicholas asked, sitting up with a frown. "Have you run out of fresh anecdotes so soon?"

"No, not at all. Last night was about Aladdin and his magic lamp. This story is quite different. Shall I continue?"

Nicholas gave a slight nod and waited a few moments after her narration began before settling back down into the cushions, satisfied that this story was in fact not the same as before.

"There exists a magical box, small enough to fit in your opened palm, made of finest jade and thin layers of white marble. The box is actually a puzzle. Different sections can be turned one way but not the other. The sides have small panels that pull outward and push inward at specific points. To solve the puzzle, you must maneuver the sections until a picture of a dragon appears, its entire body spanning across all six sides of the box. And once the dragon is completely uncovered, the box will open to reveal a crystal sphere. Inside the crystal, blue smokes swirls all about until forming the words, 'Make a Wish'. If your wish is to be granted - and not all are – the blue smokes swirls again until it forms the words, 'As you wish.' At that point, the puzzle box closes and the dragon goes into hiding until the puzzle is solved once again."

"Why would the magic box grant some wishes and not others?" asked Nicholas.

"Because not all wishes can be granted."

"But if the magic is truly powerful–"

"Yes, the magic is indeed powerful, but even magic knows its limits. If a man wished to rule the entire world, the magic would have to face far too many forces in order to make such a thing possible. It would have to change the hearts and minds of all the people of the earth to make them want to follow only one leader and one line of thought. I believe you have seen much of the world. Do you think such a thing is possible?"

In the last thirty years alone, Nicholas had seen more than his share of would-be kings hell-bent on ruling the world. He shook his head in response to her question. "No, I don't believe that such a thing is possible. And if one were to wish for an end to all wars, the same problem would exist, would it not?"

"Yes. One could, however, wish to become a powerful leader. That is within the realm of the magic box; as well as great wealth, long life and many other wonderful things. If your wish is within reason, then it will be granted."

\--------  
Present  
\--------

Nick blinked his eyes when a balled up piece of paper bounced off his forehead. He had done it again; lost himself in visions of his past and garnered another barrage of 'Knight in Wonderland' comments from his exasperated partner.

"You know what I wish?" Schanke huffed. "I wish you'd stop zoning out on me like that when I'm trying to have an intelligent conversation with you. Oh no!" Schanke gasped in alarm. "You don't think that counted, do you? I didn't just screw up your chance to make a wish, did I?"

Nick looked down at the globe and saw that the invitation to make a wish was still visible. He shrugged with nonchalance and said, "Guess not."

"Good. That's good. But that's what I was just saying; you have to be careful what you wish for. You have to think of something really special and you have to be very specific. So what are you gonna wish for? No! Wait. Don't tell me or else it may not come true."

Nick chuckled lightly. "Schanke, this isn't a birthday cake. I'm not blowing out candles."

"Yeah, but still, everybody knows it's bad luck to make a wish, then blab about it before it has a chance to come true."

"Of course."

"So, you gonna make one or what?"

Nick gave it some thought. Of course there was only one wish he would love to see come true; the one thing he had been dreaming of for centuries. To be mortal again was his heart's desire. He wondered if he needed to say the words aloud, then immediately felt silly for even entertaining the idea that such a goal could ever be achieved by simply wishing it so.

"Knight! Schanke!" Captain Cohen called out to them from her office door.

All thoughts of magic wishes and mortality were quickly cast aside as duty called and the two detectives rushed to their captain's office. They all remained standing as Captain Cohen informed them of a call she'd just received. Nathan Tyler, a murder suspect they had been seeking for several days, had just been reported as hiding out at an old girlfriend's apartment. The detectives were encouraged to move quickly in order to apprehend the man. Nick was nearly out of the squad room when he noticed that his partner was not right behind. Schanke had stopped off at his desk to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, but became transfixed by something on Nick's desk.

Nick approached and grabbed his arm. "Schanke, let's go."

Schanke's expression was hard to read as he said softly, "Hey, whatever it was, I hope it was something great and I hope it all works out for you."

Nick didn't understand what his partner meant until he glanced at his own desk and saw that the magic box was no longer open. It had closed itself up and the puzzle was ready to be solved again.

\--------

On the drive over to the address given them by an anonymous informant, Schanke couldn't stop thinking about the magical puzzle. "I wonder how long it'll take," he mused aloud.

"It's not that far," answered Nick, as he maneuvered the caddy swiftly through the light, late night traffic. "We should be there in about ten minutes."

"No, I meant, how long would it take for your wish to come true?"

"Schanke, don't."

"You didn't see it, Nick! Just before it closed up and scrambled itself all up again, I saw the words."

"What words?"

"'As you wish.' That means you made a wish, right? And now it's going to be granted. You didn't wish for something dumb, did you?"

"Schanke, can we not talk about that? Our minds should be on the case."

"What's to think about? We get there, you do your famous go around the back routine, catch the guy single-handedly as he makes a break for it, then leave me with all the paperwork."

"Would you rather go around the back?" Nick asked, sensing the frustration in his partner's voice.

"No. No, why screw around with a perfect system? You didn't by chance wish for a new partner, did you?"

Nick shook his head and grinned. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Schanke shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, guess I am. But you have to admit, there was a time when you would've wished for a different partner. Am I right?"

"Yeah, in the beginning, you did sort of rub me the wrong way."

"But then you finally came to respect and admire my vast experience, my award-winning performance under pressure and – let's not forget – my irresistible personality.

"You forgot to mention your unpretentious modesty," Nick teased.

"Hey, goes without saying."

\-------

Once they reached the suspect's hideout, the two detectives separated. Schanke chose to approach from the front of the building while his partner chose the rear. As soon as Nick had made it to the semi-darkened alley, he elevated himself into the air to reach the fourth floor windows. As he neared the third floor, he felt a sudden heaviness to his body. Something was weighing him down, pulling him back towards the ground. He tried to force himself to stay in the air but gravity quickly overtook him and he fell ungracefully to the concrete below.

Nick landed on his feet but crumbled to the ground when his knees couldn't handle the sudden force of his weight. There was no time to try to figure out what had happened as he became distracted by the sound of a window on the fourth floor being flung open. He looked up to see a man climbing out of the window and onto the fire escape. There was just enough light from the street corner for a positive identification.

Nick scrambled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his left foot and felt a twinge of pain shoot through his ankle. Something definitely wasn't right, but he pushed that nagging thought aside as he pressed his back against the wall, hiding himself among the shadows. Pulling out his weapon, he readied it for use as he waited for the suspect to come right to him. It only took a few seconds more for Nathan Tyler to maneuver his way down the fire escape. Once reaching the ground, he paused for a second to decide which way to run. That was when Nick made his presence known.

"Police! Don't move!" he warned with his gun trained on the man's back.

As Tyler's hands went up in surrender, Nick approached him cautiously. He was surprised to find himself limping as he closed in on the suspected killer, but he couldn't afford to worry about his own discomfort just yet. He had a job to fulfill.

"Nick?" Schanke called out from the window above.

"I've got him, Schank," Nick replied confidently. "Come on down."

Since Nick had never needed assistance before in subduing a prisoner, he didn't bother to wait for Schanke to join him and provide backup. It didn't phase him that Tyler towered over him by five inches and outweighed him by about sixty pounds. He'd handled bigger and tougher men before. Nick holstered his gun to free his hands, then pulled out his handcuffs. He snapped one end of the cuffs around Tyler's left wrist then twisted the man's arm behind his back. As he prepared to grab the suspect's right hand, Tyler suddenly raised his right elbow and jabbed backwards with deadly force. He clipped Nick on the chin with enough potency to rattle his teeth and knock him to his knees. As Nick attempted to fight off the dizzying effects of the punch, Tyler spun around to face him. He made a jerking movement with his right hand, and the blade of a knife suddenly appeared from beneath his sleeve.

Normally, Nick's quick reflexes would have enabled him not only to avoid the six inch blade but to confiscate it as well. Unfortunately, things were not quite normal for him anymore. He hissed in pain as the blade sliced across the forearm that he held up in a weak attempt to defend himself. The only thing that saved him from further attack was the warning voice of his partner demanding that Tyler halt. Nick watched helplessly as the giant of a man suddenly turned and fled down the alley. Schanke came into view a few seconds later intending to chase after the suspect. However, he instantly changed directions when he caught sight of his partner struggling to stand up and having little success at it.

"Hey, hey, I got you, partner," said Schanke as he rushed to Nick's aid and provided the assistance he needed to get to his feet.

"I'm okay, Schank," Nick insisted but none too convincingly. "Don't worry about me. Tyler's getting away."

"Too late," said Schanke with a quick glance at the deserted streets. "No telling which way he's headed now. We'll just have to put out an APB on him. So what about you? What kind of damage are we talking?"

"Just got the wind knocked out of me is all," Nick lied.

Schanke supported his partner's weight by slipping an arm about his waist and draping Nick's right arm around his shoulders. He heard Nick grunt in pain and noticed a definite limp as he walked him out of the alley towards the parked caddy. "What'd he do, kick you in the shin or something?" Schanke asked.

"Twisted ankle. I tripped and fell before he came out," Nick shamefully admitted.

"You tripped? You? Mr. Graceful? Mr. One silver suit away from being RoboCop?

"Off night," Nick offered as way of an explanation. He hobbled along, trying to keep his weight off his injured ankle. It still hadn't completely sunk in exactly what was happening to him. He was still feeling a bit dazed by the blow he'd received and the relentless throbbing of his knife wound made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. He could feel the blood dripping down his wrist and did what he could to conceal the injury from his partner. He just needed to get to Natalie. She'd be able to figure out what was going on and fix him right up. It wasn't until Schanke had him out under the street light that he noticed the ripped jacket sleeve and the bloody trail Nick had left behind.

"Jeez, Nick!" he exclaimed as he leaned him against the caddy. "Why the hell didn't you say something?" If Nick wasn't so sweaty and breathless, Schanke would have taken the daze look of his partner to be no more than one of his mental wandering episodes. "Stay with me, Nick! Stay with me," Schanke implored as he removed his necktie to use as a tourniquet for Nick's arm.

"I'm okay, Schanke," Nick uttered. "It's just a scratch."

"Scratch my ass. Nick, you're bleeding here like someone forgot to turn off the faucet. Hold on." Schanke gently grabbed Nick's arm and began to apply the tourniquet to control the bleeding. "Let me just get this wrapped around you, then I'll call for an ambulance."

"I don't need an ambulance," Nick insisted even as the pain in his arm increased as his friend applied the tourniquet. "Just take me to see Natalie."

"Nick, I'll admit that Natalie's a great doctor for dead people, but you need someone who specializes in the living, okay? Trust me."

"Schank, I don't–" Nick attempted to prevent his partner from calling it in but a overpowering wave of dizziness hampered his ability to object and he began a sudden downward slide. Schanke helped to ease him into a sitting position on the sidewalk with his back against the side of the car.

"I got you, partner. You're gonna be okay. I'm calling for an ambulance. You just hang on."

There was no use in arguing further even if he still possessed the ability to do so. Nick sat and concentrated on not passing out as he listened to the frantic words of his fellow detective announcing that an officer was down and that an ambulance was needed. Soon after that, Nick lost his battle for consciousness. Strong hands caught him as he fell sideways towards the ground and gentle arms held him securely until help could arrive.


	3. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After eight centuries as a vampire, Nick has become mortal.

    As Nick's eyes slowly fluttered opened, he found himself in unusual surroundings -- unusual for him at least. He noticed several things simultaneously. The first thing that caught his eye was the pale blue curtain that partially surrounded the bed in which he lay. The bed was the second thing he noticed. It had silver rails designed to keep him from falling over the edge. Then there were two, thin tubes hanging over the rails. One end of the tubing went from a needle taped to his arm and lead to a couple of bags hanging from an IV stand next to the bed. Both bags were nearly drained, one having had clear liquid in it while the other held a dark red liquid. Add that to the sounds and voices he heard from beyond the curtain, Nick was quick to recognize the fact that he had been brought to a hospital, but a little slow to realize that he wasn't alone. When he slowly turned his head, he discovered a dark-haired, young woman dressed in white, seated to his left, carefully applying sutures to close the cut on his arm. Nick jerked his arm away from her as he bolted upright in a sudden panic.  
  
    "It's all right!" the woman cooed to him as though he was a child awaking from a bad dream. "You're safe, Mr. Knight," she spoke to him reassuringly as she gently pushed down on his shoulder. "Just settle down. Everything's going to be okay."  
  
    Not wanting to cause a scene, Nick forced himself to relax, settling back down on the bed and allowing the woman to continue the work on his arm. He knew he needed to get away from her and the hospital as soon as possible before his unique physical makeup began to raise questions. He noted that he had been stripped of his suit jacket and blue, silk shirt, but the rest of his clothing was intact. He saw a small amount of blood on his T-shirt, and when he took a good look at his injured arm, he frowned in confusion. Although the three-inch gash along his forearm was now painless, it showed no signs of healing itself. It was red and puffy around the edges with traces of blood still oozing out the unstitched areas.  
  
    "How long have I been out?" Nick asked.  
  
    "As I understand it, you passed out at the scene nearly thirty minutes ago. You did wake up briefly in the ambulance, but I suppose you were a little too out of it to remember. I'm Dr. Carla Perez," the woman thought to introduce herself. "I'm an intern here at the hospital and you're my first knife wound. But don't let that alarm you. Trust me; the wound isn't all that serious. It was a little deep, but luckily, there was only minor tissue damage. However, you did lose a fair amount of blood -- which would account for your little impromptu nap -- but your vital signs are looking pretty good now."  
  
    "My... vital signs?" Nick questioned.  
  
    "Yes." The doctor gave a nod towards the silent monitor to which her patient was wired. "Your heartbeat is strong and steady, your blood pressure is stable and your temperature is normal."  
  
    "Normal?" Nick repeated the word quizzically as he stared at the monitor and tried to interpret its numerical messages. The information was slowly trickling into his brain. He was beginning to assimilate what he'd just been told about his condition with the events which had placed him in a doctor's care. The fact that he was unable to stay airborne, his weakness and lack of agility against his attacker combined with his inability to heal instantly all added up to one thing.  
  
    "I'm mortal," he softly uttered.  
  
    "Indeed you are," the doctor verified his statement, apparently thinking nothing odd in him making it. "Do you remember what happened to you?"  
  
    "I uh.... had a confrontation with a suspect. He elbowed me...." Nick paused and lifted his right hand to gently probe his swollen chin, finding it painfully tender to the touch.  
  
    "Your jaw isn't broken or anything, but you're going to need an ice pack for that," the doctor told him.  
  
    Nick gave a minor nod of understanding. "Do you know if my partner is around anywhere?"  
  
    "Well, there was a frantic gentleman here earlier, but I had to insist he go get some air or something because he was driving everyone crazy with suggestions of how we should perform our jobs."  
  
    "That would be Schanke," Nick smiled lightly. "I suppose he probably saved my life tonight."  
  
    "Yeah, and don't think I'm gonna let you forget it either," said the man in question as he peered around the privacy curtain separating Nick's bed from the rest of the emergency room holding area.  
  
    "No, I won't forget it, Schanke. Thanks. I owe you a big one."  
  
    "Hey, don't worry about it, partner. You'd do the same for me."  
  
    "Did you call Nat?"  
  
    "Oh, jeez!" Schanke exclaimed as he slammed his palm against his forehead. "Everything was moving so fast and I had to answer so many questions from everybody, plus Cohen's breathing down my neck wanting to know what went down --"  
  
    "Schank!" Nick interrupted his apologetic tirade. "It's okay. I understand. Just as well. I wouldn't want to worry her unnecessarily. I'll just talk to her later."  
  
    "So how's he doing, doc?" Schanke asked just as the doctor finished securing the last suture.  
  
    "No worse for wear," she replied, giving Nick a pat on the back of his hand. "All done. I'm not going to bandage it. I'd like for it to be able to breathe. I do suggest you wear lightweight, long-sleeve shirts for the next few days to help protect it." Dr. Perez picked up Nick's chart and made a notation on it. "Do you have any drug allergies, Mr. Knight?"  
  
    "Not that I'm aware," Nick answered truthfully.  
  
    "Okay. I'll write you a prescription for antibiotics to stave off any infections and we'll set you up with a little something for the pain."  
  
    "It doesn't hurt," Nick informed her.  
  
    "That's the local anesthetic at work, but once it wears off, you'll probably be wanting something a little stronger than aspirin. And I suggest you take a day or two off from work. When you do go back, light duty only. If there are no problems with the wound, plan to come back to have the stitches removed in two weeks. Okay?"  
  
    "So I can go home now?" asked Nick.  
  
    "Well, we'll let you rest for a little while longer, then if you can stand up on your own two feet, I don't see why not."  
  
    As it turned out, he was only able to stand on one foot. Nick had forgotten about his injured ankle until he actually tried to put his weight on it. Both the doctor and his partner were quick to catch him and prevent him from falling. After an x-ray revealed nothing broken, Nick's swollen ankle was treated with an ice pack, then wrapped tightly with an elastic bandage. An hour later, he was released from the hospital.  
  
    Instead of taking him back to the loft, Nick asked his partner to drive him over to Natalie's apartment. Schanke felt better about that than leaving Nick alone to fend for himself. As he drove the car through the pre-dawn streets, Schanke kept stealing glances at his physically damaged friend. He wasn't use to seeing Nick appearing less than perfect. As many scuffles with bad guys as they'd encountered, Nick had always walked away either completely unscathed or with such minor injuries, that he barely needed anything other than a kiss from Natalie to make it all better. It was really unsettling to see him with a large, purple bruise covering his chin, and his arm nestled in a sling to keep it from banging against something and causing more damage. And just to see Nick in pain had been a real eye-opener. He had always been Mr. Macho, able to shake off any blow and even pretend that the bullet that grazed him was no more irritating than a mosquito bite.  
  
    "Some night, huh?" asked Schanke, wanting to say so much more, but not knowing where to start.  
  
    "Yeah," Nick softly agreed. His mind was still busy trying to absorb it all; not only his injuries, but his new found mortal existence and what it all meant in terms of his future with the police department, with Natalie and his vampire family.  
  
    "You know, you kind of had me worried there for a while," Schanke bashfully admitted. "All that blood. I wasn't quite sure it was just coming from the one cut. Then you go passing out on me like that. You could give a guy a heart attack doing stuff like that, you know?"  
  
    "I'm sorry, Schanke. Didn't mean to worry you."  
  
    "Yeah, well, no harm done. But I mean, if you're going to go around playing Supercop all the time, you've got to stay in character, Nick. You can't go getting yourself stabbed and stuff."  
  
    "I'll try to be more careful next time. By the way, were you ever able to catch Tyler?"  
  
    "Nah. He got away. But, what the hell, we caught up to him this time, we'll catch him again eventually. So, uh... do you think all this has anything to do with your wish?"  
  
    "My wish?"  
  
    "Yeah. You know, like what happened with that Melville guy. You think that maybe what's happened here is sort of a backlash to you making your wish?"  
  
    Uncannily, Schanke had just hit the nail on the head with his theory but Nick couldn't let on how true his statement was. "No, Schanke," he said with a light chuckle. "I think my Supercop mentality finally got the best of me is all."  
  
    Schanke did a double take of his partner. "Did I just hear right?"  
  
    Nick grinned. "Yes, Schanke. I'm admitting it. I screwed up. It was poor police work on my part. I didn't even check him for weapons before I tried to cuff him. Plus, he's a pretty big guy and I should have waited for you to come down and back me up."  
  
    "Yeah, you _should_ have. You know, that's why God invented partners in the first place."  
  
    "I know. And I'm just lucky you were there for me. Thanks again."  
  
    "Yeah. Anytime, partner."  
  
\--------      
  
    Natalie waited anxiously for Nick to arrive. He had called her at work, revealing nothing of his present condition, informing her only that he had a special surprise for her. When she heard the doorbell ring she rushed to the door and flung it open. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw on the other side. Her shock almost turned into laughter because she knew that Nick's appearance could not be legitimate. Her first thought was that he had been in a car accident and perhaps because witnesses had been present, he simply had to pretend to be injured. She wondered how he had managed the great makeup job to create the discoloring bruise on his face. Her eyes moved downwards to take in the fact that he wore a sling to support his left arm, and his partner's dark brown jacket was draped over his shoulders to cover a blood-stained T-shirt. The crutch tucked under his right arm helped him to keep his weight off a bandaged left ankle, while Schanke stood at his side with an arm around his waist for added support.  
  
    "Nick!? What happened to you?"  
  
    "I'm okay, Nat," he told her as he and Schanke slowly worked their way through the door.  
  
    "If this is your idea of okay," said Schanke, "I hate to see _not_ okay. Where you want him, Nat? The bedroom or the couch?"  
  
    "The couch is fine, Schanke," said Nick.  
  
    Schanke helped his limping friend over to the couch and eased him down to a semi-reclined position that had his back against the right arm of the sofa and his left leg stretched out with a pillow beneath his injured ankle. After making sure his good buddy was comfortable, Schanke turned to Natalie and began telling her the full story of what had taken place. Nick remained silent and just listened as his partner went into the details from when they first made contact with Nathan Tyler up until they left the hospital. There were a few things Nick had been unaware of because he had lost consciousness. He heard the worry in Schanke's voice when he told about waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the ambulance to arrive.  
  
    "Then, once the paramedics get there, this one chick starts giving me a hard time about me using my tie as a tourniquet. She tells me that I should have just applied direct pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding because tourniquets can sometimes cause even more problems if they're tied too tight. I try to explain to her just how much blood he was leaking; like he had more than his fair share and was trying to dump the excess. A tourniquet just seemed like the quickest way to get the bleeding under control."  
  
    "Well, it's obvious," said Nat to ease his agitation, "that you did the right thing, Schanke. It worked, right?"  
  
    "Yeah," he nodded, feeling vindication in his previous actions. "Anyway, it just seemed like they were moving in slow motion getting him into the back of the ambulance. Then when we get to the hospital, the doctors and nurses wasted a lot of time asking stupid questions when they should have been concentrating on helping the patient. I mean, what does it matter what kind of knife was used? The man's been stabbed. Do something! Help him!  
  
    "And then, they kept saying that it wasn't as bad as it looked and that Nick was going to be all right, and that I should just calm down. But how is a guy suppose to calm down when he's standing there watching his buddy lying unconscious and covered in blood and no one's doing a damn thing about it? I mean, well maybe I did overreact just a bit, but I've lost partners before and I didn't want to have to go through that again."  
  
    "Sounds like you've had a pretty rough night, Schanke," said Nat as she patted and rubbed his back to comfort him. "Nick may be a little banged up, but thanks you, he's alive and well on his way to a full recovery. You did a good job. But I can take over now. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"  
  
    "Yeah," Schanke nodded. "I guess I _am_ about do for a nice hot bath and a stiff, long drink. So, you gonna be okay, Nick?"  
  
    Nick looked up with an appreciative smile. "Thanks to you, Schank. Go home to Myra and Jenny now."  
  
    Schanke accepted his jacket back from Nick, ignoring the offer to have it cleaned or replaced because of the barely noticeable smears of blood on it. Natalie walked him to the door and gave his arm a gentle squeeze as she bid him good night. After his departure, Nat went back to Nick and stood over him with arms folded, gazing down at him with disapproval.  
  
    "Was it really necessary to put Schanke through all that, Nick? Couldn't you have just mesmerized him or something? The poor guy actually thinks you could have died tonight."  
  
    "That's just it, Nat. I _could_ have died tonight."  
  
    "What are you saying?"  
  
    Nick figured that a picture was worth a thousand words. He gently pulled his arm from the sling and showed it to her. Natalie's eyes zeroed in on the sutured wound, then reached down to finger it. When Nick let out a hiss of pain, Nat jerked her hand away and stared at him in confusion.  
  
    "It hasn't healed. Why? What's going on, Nick?"  
  
    "I'm not a vampire anymore, Nat. I'm mortal."  
  
    Natalie's eyes grew wide in disbelief. Her hand reached out to his neck to feel for a pulse she hadn't expected to find, then allowed her fingers to linger upon warn flesh that had been previously cool to the touch. She gazed momentarily into his eyes before gently touching his bruised cheek. When she saw him flinch slightly at the contact, she was finally convinced.  
  
    "How?" was the only thing she could think to say.  
  
    Nick reached for her hand and guided her to sit beside him on the couch. "You remember that Chinese puzzle box that Schanke found at the Melville home?"  
  
    "Yes. What about it?"  
  
    "Remember the legend that I told you about? The one where if you solve the puzzle, you get to make a wish?"  
  
    "Wait! Are you saying that it's true? You wished for mortality and it just happened?"  
  
    "Apparently. Schanke had the puzzle down at the precinct. I picked it up and started fooling around with it. Next thing I know, it's opening up and there's a crystal ball inside with blue smoke forming the words, 'Make a wish'." Nick shook his head in awe at the remembered vision. "I thought it only existed in fairy tales, Nat. But as soon as I saw it, I knew it had to be the real thing. And when Schanke asked me what I was going to wish for, only one thing came to mind. But I never even said it out loud. I was only thinking it."  
  
    "Are you saying that it read your thoughts?"  
  
    "Looks that way."  
  
    "So you turned mortal that instant?"  
  
    "No, it wasn't instantaneous. I'm pretty sure I was still a vampire when we left the precinct. I didn't notice anything at all until we had reached Tyler's hideout and I tried flying up to the window. Got about twenty feet off the ground, then suddenly it felt as though I was wearing cement shoes. I couldn't stay up. Just dropped like a rock to the ground."  
  
    "And that's how you sprang your ankle?"  
  
    Nick nodded. "Yeah. Everything else is just as Schanke told you."  
  
    "But, I don't understand, Nick. How could you not realize that you'd changed? Remember when we tried our little experiment with the ibrufphin? You knew right away that your body had changed. You even said that you couldn't feel the vampire anymore."  
  
    "That was the drug all along, Nat. From the moment it entered my vein, I experienced a multitude of sensations. After the pain and nausea, there was this exaggerated sense of well-being that I misread as my becoming mortal again. The drug had both my mind and body completely out of whack. But this... this feels completely different. It's been so long since I've been mortal, I didn't recognize the feeling at first." Nick grinned sheepishly and added, "I suppose as an ordinary human, I'm not very bright. It took me awhile to figure out what had happened to me."  
  
    "Mortal, huh?" said Natalie with a delighted grin. "Is it permanent?".  
  
    Nick thought briefly of Stanley Melville and his possible wish to lose weight. It could be as Schanke had theorized that the man simply didn't stipulate exactly how much weight he wanted to lose. Nick shrugged his shoulders lightly and said, "Well, I didn't specify a time limit. But you know how magic is, Nat. I might have only until the clock strikes twelve or it maybe happily ever after."  
  
    "Or until LaCroix finds out," Natalie pointed out.  
  
    Nick nodded. "Yeah, that is a real possibility. That's one of the reasons I asked Schanke to bring me here instead of taking me back to the loft. Knowing how LaCroix likes to drop in unannounced, especially if he senses that I'm--" Nick stopped short, his eyes focusing inwards as he suddenly realized something else different about himself.  
  
    "Nick?" Natalie stared at him with nervous concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
    "Our link, Nat. That invisible thread that bound us together from my first day as a vampire. It's what always allowed him to find me no matter where I went."  
  
    "So you're saying that he doesn't have to know where I live. He can just follow you through your link?"  
  
    "Not anymore. It's gone. I just noticed that I can't feel him anymore. Even... even when we were a great distance apart, when I couldn't actually feel the vibrations of the thread that binds us, I've always been able to sense that he still existed somewhere in the world, that he was still haunting me. But now... it's like he never was. I feel..." Nick smiled softly as he thought of the word that best expressed his current emotion. "...free."  
  
    "How can we make sure you stay free?" asked Nat.  
  
    Nick gave it some thought. "I'll have to leave town as soon as possible. Even if he can't track me through our link anymore, he knows my scent. He'll hunt me down like a bloodhound tracking an escaped convict. I'll have to make myself disappear."  
  
    "Leave?" Nat tried to hide her disappointment at his decision, but the crack in her voice gave her away. She stood and turn her back to him as she fought to contain her misery.  
  
    "I'm sorry, Nat. But I can't stay. I'd be putting your life at risk."  
  
    "And how far do you think you'll get the shape you're in now?"  
  
    "Well, if you have a better idea, Nat, I'm open to suggestions."  
  
    Natalie shrugged and shook her head helplessly. "Oh, I don't know. Why don't you just solve that little puzzle again and wish LaCroix out of your life once and for good."  
  
    She was being totally facetious. But after speaking the words, she realized that she may have just stumbled onto the answer to their dilemma. She turned and looked at Nick, who one second later shared the same thought.  
  
    "Where is it?" Nat asked as she picked up her car keys and purse.  
  
    "I left it on my desk back at the precinct."  
  
    "Sit tight. I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
    She was out of the door before he could say another word.


	4. Hard Pill to Swallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Nick continues to adjust to being human. In the past, Shalimar begins telling the story of Demarcus.

    LaCroix had been quite busy for the past week getting the club ready for its grand reopening. He had promised Janette when she handed it over to him nearly a month ago that he would preserve it as a place for homeless vampires to find shelter. However, he saw nothing wrong with making a few changes to make the Raven more financially productive. He had been spending the night auditioning strippers, not an unpleasant task but not as easy as it would seem. He didn't want women who would eagerly agree to sexual favors for money because he couldn't afford to have the place raided for prostitution, so he had to choose the women he planned to hire very carefully. Single mothers with children to support and bills to pay seemed to be his best bet. He thought briefly of Nicholas, knowing that he would not approve of him turning the Raven into a strip club, or exploiting women, but then Nicholas never approved of anything he did.  
  
    LaCroix was both irritated and relieved that Nicholas had not been around lately. He had been so absorbed in his human world that he hadn't even noticed that Janette had left town. It was just as well. Janette had not wanted to deal with him, had not wanted Nicholas to know she was leaving or where she had gone. She had finally had enough of his obsession with mortality and coming around only when he needed help solving some police case which he deemed more important than his vampire family. LaCroix would miss his daughter of the night. They had only been reunited for a year, but he understood her reasons for going. He had agreed to stay behind and care for the club and to keep an eye on Nicholas. It wasn't wise to leave him alone and unsupervised for very long.  
  
    It was close to dawn and all was quiet in the club. That was when LaCroix felt it, or rather when he became aware that he could no longer feel it. The psychic thread that had kept master and child linked to each other for nearly eight centuries was suddenly gone.  LaCroix stood in the middle of the dance floor and looked about in all directions as if he could visually pick up the tracks of the lost connection. He closed his eyes and concentrated as he stretched out with his mind, seeking, but not finding a trace of what once was. He tried to figure out what it meant.  
  
    One explanation would be that Nicholas was dead, but that didn't make sense. LaCroix knew that he would have been able to detect the pain of a stake through the heart, decapitation or a fiery death. The sun had yet to rise, so it was apparent that Nicholas had not succumbed to the dangers of daylight. But something had obviously happened to him. The thought that Nicholas had allowed his doctor friend to experiment on him once again came to mind. The last time she had practiced her incompetence, her so-called cure had turned Nicholas into a blithering and pathetic drug addict. LaCroix had chosen not to do anything about the good doctor's meddling at that time, hoping instead that Nicholas -- while under the drug's influence -- would dispose of Dr. Lambert himself. Unfortunately, that was not the outcome.  
  
    It could be that the doctor was at it again. Perhaps she had come up with another hair-brained treatment to try on Nicholas, one which had temporarily blocked the psychic bond to his master. LaCroix shook his head in disdain. "Enough is enough, Dr. Lambert!" he snarled to himself. He had been more than patient with this latest infatuation of Nicholas, but if she wasn't stopped soon, she might very well lead to his son's destruction. Once again, the master vampire knew that it was up to him to save Nicholas from himself. He'd have to go find his impetuous child and put an end to his fruitless search for mortality once and for all.  
  
\--------  
  
   Natalie had climbed into her car and was about to start the engine when she realized that she had left her incapacitated house guest all alone and virtually helpless up in her apartment. In her haste to retrieve the magic puzzle, she hadn't considered Nick's current need for assistance. Although it was possible that he might sleep the whole time she was away, Natalie felt guilty about abandoning him. She could have at least asked if he needed anything. There could even be a prescription he needed to have filled. As she now recalled, it did seem as though Nick had wanted to say something to her as she flew out of the door -- which by the way -- she had neglected to lock on her way out.  
  
    "All right, all right!" she responded to that little voice which goaded her into going back and making sure Nick was okay. That little voice must have known something because as she reached her apartment door, she heard a crashing noise from the opposite side. She threw open the door and called out worriedly. "Nick?"  
  
    She found the object of her concern lying in a tangled heap on the floor, cursing vehemently at Sidney, Nat's pet cat who had already scurried from view. In his bid to leave the couch, Nick had tripped over the previously unseen animal and in the process, had overturned the coffee table, dumping over a vase of flowers and a few other items in his wake. Natalie scrambled to his side, quickly pushing all obstacles out of the way.  
  
    "What happened? Are you all right? Are you hurt?"  
  
    Nick couldn't keep the hiss of pain from escaping his lips. Luckily, his wounded arm had been unaffected by the fall, but he did succeed in further aggravating his sprained ankle. "Tripped over the cat," he explained tersely, "but I'm fine now," he insisted, even though his hard to control groans told another story.  
  
    "You don't sound fine," Nat pointed out as she helped him into a sitting position on the floor. "If you're hurt, Nick, you need to tell me."  
  
    After settling himself with a couple of deep breaths, Nick took assessment of his true condition. He looked at Nat and answered her honestly. "My ankle. I put my full weight on it without thinking and now it doesn't feel so good. Not that it was feeling all that great to begin with."  
  
    Natalie set the coffee table upright again, then placed one of the pillows from the sofa on it. "Here, let's get you comfy again." She wrapped both arms around his torso and helped to ease him back onto the couch, then lifted his right leg and gently nestled it onto the pillow on the table. "How's that?" she asked after stuffing another smaller pillow behind his back.  
  
    "Better," Nick sighed. "Thanks. What are you doing back so soon?" he asked. "I thought you were going down to the precinct."  
  
    "I was. But I ran out of here so fast, I didn't stop to think that you might need something. So, what were you doing getting up? You were suppose to stay off your feet."  
  
    "I was going over to the window. I wanted to see the sunrise. Forgot I wasn't as light on my feet anymore." Nick jerked his leg and grunted loudly as a spasm of pain suddenly shot through his ankle.  
  
    "Did the doctor give you anything to take for the pain?" Natalie asked.  
  
    Nick frowned when he realized what had become of his prescription drugs. "I left it in the pocket of Schanke's jacket."  
  
    "Well, I've got something that should help." Nat went into the kitchen and came back a moment later with a couple of pills and a glass of water which she offered to her guest.  
  
    Without question, Nick accepted the pills and popped them into his mouth. It wasn't until he tried to swallow them along with a sip of water did he realize that he had no experience in the art of pill taking. Both the pills and water went down the wrong way, leaving him gagging and coughing in an attempt to clear his airway.  
  
    "Nick!" Natalie took the glass away from him and set it out of the way, then began forcefully patting his back to help him expel that which his body saw as foreign and unwelcome.  
  
    After a moment, his throat was clear and he leaned back against the sofa, drawing in deep breaths, his eyes closed and his features twisted in a mixture of relief and frustration. Nat stood by silently, and studied him carefully, finally getting a clearer view of the new Nick Knight. He was no longer the invincible, immortal vampire with superhuman strength and capabilities she had come to know so well. He was mortal now, slightly damaged and at present somewhat overwhelmed by his brand new existence.  
  
    Natalie reached out her hand to caress his unmarked cheek. "I'm sorry, Nick. I shouldn't have left you alone like that. I don't know what I was thinking. You're practically helpless now, aren't you?"  
  
    Nick's eyes slid partially open as he leaned into her touch. "I've wanted this for so long," he spoke with a shuddering voice. "But I'd be lying, Nat if I said I didn't miss my powers. Instant healing definitely has its advantages."  
  
    "No doubt. I take it, you've never had to swallow pills before?"  
  
    "Only pretended to."  
  
    "Well, don't feel bad. It's a subtle art. Not everyone gets the hang of it right away. I'll be right back."  
  
    Natalie disappeared into the kitchen once again, this time returning with a glass of fizzling water. She swirled the liquid around in the glass a bit and waited a moment to give the fizzling a chance to die down some. When she handed the glass to Nick, he eyed the contents suspiciously.  
  
    "Trust me," Nat smiled. So he did, drinking it all down and frowning slightly at the salty flavor. But at least he didn't choke on it. "Good boy," Nat said as she took the empty glass from him and gave his hair a quick ruffling.  
  
    "Nat? Can you help me to the window?"  
  
    "Nick, I don't think--"  
  
    "I have to know, Nat if this is... complete." It wasn't enough that he had the physical attributes and limitations of a mortal. He had to know if his reaction to sunlight was normal.  
  
    It was a bit of a struggle using Nat as a crutch, but Nick eventually made it over to the window. He steadied himself on one foot as he held on to Nat's shoulder and waited for her to draw open the curtains. He could see the early morning light peeking over the tops of buildings in the far distance. They stood there for several moments waiting for the sun to rise further into the sky, until at last a golden ray streamed into the window. Nick hesitantly reached his hand out into the ray's path, then beamed a smile at Natalie when all he felt was warmth.  
  
    "It's official," he grinned.  
  
    "Congratulations, Nick. Welcome back to the human race."  
  
    Nick pulled Natalie closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you." He was content to stay in front of the window and let the sun bathe him in its exquisite warmth, but the peaceful moment was shattered by the ringing of the phone.  
  
    "Oh, who could that be," said Nat, wondering how she could reach the phone and not have Nick topple without her support. She decided to let the answering machine handle the call. However, when instructed to leave a message, none came. There were a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line, then the caller hung up. "Wonder who that was," Natalie pondered aloud. "I'm sure Grace or someone from work would have left a message."  
  
    "LaCroix," Nick stated with certainty. "He's trying to find me. He's realized that our link has been broken, that something has happened to me. He'll probably think that you had something to do with this."  
  
    "You mean because of the experiment we tried before?"  
  
    "Yes. He was uncharacteristically understanding then. I suppose it was only because he knew no serious harm had been done. I don't think he's going to be quite so forgiving this time."  
  
    "So what are you saying? That he's going to come after me?"  
  
    Nick thought about the matter carefully, attempting to put himself in his master's place just for a moment. "Eventually. Right now his main concern is finding me. More than likely, he went to the loft looking for me. Since I'm not there, he'd assume that I must be with you. If you had answered the phone just then, that would have told him all he needed to know."  
  
    "Well, if he's at the loft," said Nat with a slight shrug, "then that means we're safe. The sun is up now so he'll be trapped there all day. That gives us plenty of time to get to the puzzle and solve it, and make that wish. Right?"  
  
    Nick didn't want to worry her with the news that LaCroix wouldn't let a little thing like the sun stop him from seeking his goal. The master vampire had shocked him already by appearing at his loft in the middle of the day and placing himself in direct sunlight to demonstrate his superiority.  
  
    "Nick? We are safe for now, aren't we?"  
  
    Nick spoke softly so as not to frighten her too much. "I think it's a good idea that we leave right away, Nat. We'll stop off at the precinct to get the puzzle. But in case things don't work out, we need to be prepared to keep going."  
  
    "Keep going as in--?"  
  
    "Leaving Toronto and not coming back."  
  
    Natalie didn't bother to argue with him. If he thought there was even the slightest chance that LaCroix might stop by during daylight hours, that was good enough for her. As quickly as she could, Nat packed up the cat and a few personal items, and they were soon on their way.  
   
\--------------  
Baghdad - 1258  
\--------------  
  
    "Now that I have explained about the magic wish box, I shall tell you the story that goes along with it."  
  
    "Wouldn't you like to make yourself more comfortable first?" asked Nicholas, as he patted the empty spot next to him on the bed.  
  
    "I am most comfortable as I am," stated Shalimar, intent on keeping a safe distance from the vampire.  
  
    Nicholas chuckled lightly, then tucked his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the soft pillows. "Then, by all means, continue with the tale," he bid her.  
  
    "Many years ago near the land of the pharaohs, lived the simple people of a small village. One day, the village was invaded by an army of soldiers who plundered and burned the homes to the ground. The villagers they did not kill, they encased in chains and took them to be sold as slaves. Out into the desert, they marched the slaves, giving them no food and very little water. Many faltered along the way and were left behind to perish in the barren wasteland. As the sun was going down on the fifth day of their trek, they came upon a caravan of merchants headed to market. The camels were loaded down with many fine and wonderful things, including wine and food. The soldiers used their weapons and great might to take what they wanted. They pulled items from the packs, and if it were not to their liking, they tossed it to the ground.  
  
    "Now, among the new slaves was Demarcus, not quite a man, but no longer a boy. As he lay resting on the ground with the other slaves, one of the soldiers, more interested in finding another jug of wine than anything else, tossed items from one of the camel's packs over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. One discarded item landed beside Demarcus. There was enough give in his chains for him to reach the item. It was too dark for him to see clearly what it was, though he could tell it was a box of some sort. He thought it might be something of value which he could use to buy his freedom later, so he hid it away by burying it in the sand beneath him.  
  
    "Later that night, when all was quiet and everyone asleep, Demarcus pulled the little box from the sand. He still could not see what it was he held in the darkness, but he ran his hands all over it seeking a way to open it. His fingers pulled and pushed at the box, and twisted it in directions it seemed to want to go, when all of a sudden, the box began to click. He felt it moving about by itself in his hands. It soon opened, revealing a crystal sphere which he would not have been able to see had it not begin to glow in the darkness. Demarcus was quick to cover it with his hands so that the glowing would not attract attention. He glanced around and saw that no one else was awake, so he parted his hands slightly to look upon the crystal. He saw a swirling of blue smoke which began to form symbols he was unfamiliar with. He thought how pretty the crystal was and couldn't help but whisper the word aloud. And as he spoke it, the symbols in the sphere changed to those of his own language. He understood then that he was to make a wish. Can you imagine what he wished for?" Shalimar paused in her storytelling to quiz her audience.  
  
    "If he had at least half a brain, he would wish for his freedom," replied Nicholas with the only answer that made sense to him.  
  
    "Is that what you would have wished for if you were in his place?"  
  
    "Of course. No man wants to be a slave."  
  
     Shalimar nodded her head in agreement. "But what of the rest of his people? Should he not wish for their freedom as well?"  
  
    Nicholas frowned at the question, realizing that indeed it was the right thing to do, and he felt a sliver of shame that he had not thought of that himself. "Yes, he should wish freedom for them all."  
  
    "Indeed, he should have, but alas, he did not. His first thoughts were of himself and how he wished not to become a slave. The glow of the sphere died down and the box closed itself up. Demarcus heard a  noise and thought someone might be coming, so he quickly pushed the box into the sand and laid his head down. Soon, he fell asleep. When next, he opened his eyes, it was midday and as he stood, he saw that his chains were gone. However, so was everyone and everything else. He was all alone in the desert. He realized that the soldiers had probably tried to wake him, but he slept so heavily that they thought he was dead or near death and decided to leave him behind as they had done some of the others. You see, his wish had come true. Demarcus now had his freedom...but nothing else."  
  
    "He still had the magic box, did he not?"  
  
    "He had hidden the magic box in the sand. When he dug where he thought it should be, he did not find it, because when the soldiers removed his chains, they had placed him in a different position than when he first fell asleep. The box may have been found and taken away by the soldiers or it could still be buried somewhere beneath the surface of the sand.  Demarcus had the choice of crawling around the hot dunes beneath a blistering sun, seeking that which might never be found or he could begin walking towards the city, still two days away and possibly his only chance for survival."  
  
\--------  
Present  
\--------  
  
    The sudden, loud tapping on the car's window snapped Nick quickly back to reality and nearly caused him to leave his skin behind. With a hand grasping at his thumping heart, he sighed in relief when he saw who was trying to get his attention. While forcing his sharp breathing under control, he rolled down the window to speak to his partner.  
  
    "Schanke, you scared me half to death. What are you doing here? I thought you were headed home."  
  
    "I was. But I figured, since I was in the neighborhood, I might as well go ahead and get the paperwork over with. Plus, I decided to put in for a little time off. You know, since you'll be out of action for a while, I thought it would be a good time to take a mini-vacation. I've been putting in a lot of overtime lately and the wife and kid hardly recognize me anymore. Myra and Jenny were already planning to visit the grandparents down on the farm, so I figured I might as well join them. "  
  
    "Sounds good," Nick smiled. "I hope you all have a great time."  
  
    "Thanks. So what are you doing here?"  
  
    "Oh, um, Nat accidentally took some files home that she was suppose to drop off here earlier. I just came along for the ride."  
  
    "The cat came along for the ride too?" asked Schanke with a nod towards Natalie's pet in the backseat confined in a small cage.  
  
    "Dropping it off at the vet. Time for its checkup."  
  
    "Oh, yeah, that reminds me." Schanke reached into this jacket pocket and pulled out a small white bag. "You forgot your prescription."  
  
    "Ah, so I did." As Nick reached his hand out to receive the bag, Schanke noticed the morning sun beaming harmlessly across the pale skin.  
  
    "The sun," Schanke pointed out. "That didn't bother you?"  
  
    "No, it didn't."  
  
    "That's what you wished for!" Schanke stated excitedly. "You wished your sun allergy away, didn't you?"  
  
    "Yes," Nick nodded, unable to hide his secret joy any longer.  
  
    Schanke seemed a bit apprehensive. "This isn't going to be like last time, is it? You're not going to go all wacko and start eating everything in sight, are you?"  
  
    Nick chuckled lightly. "No, Schanke. This isn't the effects of drugs this time. This is... a true miracle."  
  
    "Wow! That's great! I'm really happy for you. That 'make a wish deal' really works."  
  
    "Seems to."  
  
    "That means you've got two more wishes coming to you?"  
  
    "Maybe."  
  
    "And that's why you're here, right? You came to get that puzzle so you can make another wish. You want to be healed overnight, is that it?"  
  
    "No, it's not like that, Schanke--"  
  
    "Look, Nick, I know you're not used to being less than perfect. You hate depending on others to help you out, you hate not being able to drive your own car, but hey, that's life. Things like this sometimes happen. I know it's real enticing to make a wish and have all your aches and pains go away instantly, but you have to think about the consequences. Remember what happened to Melville? His first wish was great and the second one was okay, but the third one--"  
  
    "Schanke--" Nick attempted to interrupt his partner's lecture.  
  
    "Nick, I threw it away," Schanke blurted out the confession.  
  
    "You what?"  
  
    "When I went in, I found one of the night shift guys, Davis, fooling around with it. The guy should have gone home over an hour ago, but he was sitting there basically hypnotized by the thing trying to solve it. I snatched it from him and told him to go home to his wife and kids. He looked at me like he didn't realize he even had a family.  I'm telling you, Nick, I've got a bad feeling about that thing, so I tossed it in the dumpster out back."  
  
    Both their heads turned at the sound of the garbage truck as it pulled into the rear parking lot to collect its load. Nick was torn between begging his partner to run after it to rescue the puzzle and leaping out of the car and hobbling after it himself. Solving the Chinese puzzle box and wishing LaCroix out of his life seemed to be the only real hope of retaining his mortality, but now that hope was sailing away in the back of a garbage truck on the way to the city dump.  
  
    "You don't hate me, do you?" Schanke asked, seeming to fear the reply.  
  
   "Of course not. It's okay, Schanke. Don't worry about it. I've got what I've always wanted. I'll just have to deal with whatever comes next on my own."  
  
    "Well, I gotta run. I'll see you when I get back from cow country, okay?"  
  
    Nick realized that this would be the very last time he would see his partner. He was tempted to say something to let him know how much his friendship meant to him, and how much he would miss him, but he knew it was best not to let on that he was leaving town for good. He and Natalie would have to disappear without a trace now, leaving Schanke and everyone else to wonder whatever had become of them.  
  
    "Nick? You okay?"  
  
    "Yeah. Just a little tired is all."  
  
    "You look it. When Nat comes back, have her get you back home pronto so you can get some rest."  
  
    "I will. Ah, Schanke?"  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    "Natalie and I will be going on a little road trip."  
  
    "Oh?"  
  
    "We...uh...want to spend some time together away from the city and all."  
  
    Schanke smiled knowingly. "You and Nat? Finally!"  
  
    "Yes, finally," Nick nodded. "Now that the sun allergy isn't a problem, we thought we might expand our relationship. I don't know how long we'll be gone, so if you don't hear from us for a little while, I didn't want you to worry."  
  
    Schanke grinned cheerily. "You and Nat take your time, Nick. Just don't go getting lost. I plan to be best man at your wedding."  
  
    "You're already the best man, Schank."  
  
    Schanke patted his friend's shoulder in a gesture of farewell. "Take it easy, Nick. I'll catch you later."  
  
    "Good-by, Schanke." As he watched his friend and partner get into his car and drive away, Nick whispered solemly to himself, "I'll miss you, partner."


	5. Plan B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Natalie go on the run from LaCroix.

   Soon after Schanke got into his car and drove off, Natalie made her way out of the precinct. Nick was trying to figure a way to break the news to her, to let her know that from now on, they would have to run for their lives because LaCroix would not rest until he had found them both. He wasn't quite as concerned with his own fate. He knew the type of punishment his master would inflict upon him, but what he would do to Natalie, Nick didn't even want to consider.  
  
   When Nat plopped down in the driver's seat and dangled a plastic evidence bag up by one corner, Nick opened his mouth to speak but was momentarily shocked into silence when he saw what she held.  
  
   "Nat!" he blurted, finally finding his voice. "How? Schanke said he threw it in the garbage."  
  
   "He did. When I first went in, I saw him giving Davis a hard time for fooling around with it, so that made me a little hesitant about asking him for it. Instead, I just followed him around without his knowledge to see what he'd do with it. I saw him toss it in the dumpster, and when the coast was clear, I dug it out. Luckily, I carry around plastic gloves and bags with me everywhere." Natalie frowned slightly as she studied the debris covering the puzzle. "Looks like it met with the used coffee filters and leftover pizza, among other things. We'll need to get it cleaned up before you handle it."  
  
   Nick took the bag from her and studied the soiled cube through the clear plastic. "You know why Schanke threw this away, Nat?"  
  
   "No, not really. He did seem a little -- oh, I don't know -- _spooked_ by it."  
  
   "It's because of what happened to Stanley Melville. Schanke thinks something bad will happen to me if I use it to make more wishes."  
  
   "Well, of course, you have to be careful what you wish for. You wished for mortality. Nothing's wrong with that. It's just that you were taken off guard. That's why you got hurt. But now you know what to expect, you can approach this wishing business logically and not make mistakes. Right?"  
  
   "Yeah, I suppose," Nick answered distractedly as his mind almost began to wander back to the legend he'd been told so very long ago.  
  
   "Or maybe you don't _want_ to wish LaCroix out of your life." Natalie's words brought him instantly back to the present.  
  
   "Why would you say that?"  
  
   "Oh, I don't know. Maybe being mortal isn't all you hoped it would be. I imagine it can't be all that easy after centuries of having superhuman strength and supernatural powers, to give them all up overnight. It could be that on some subconscious level, you want LaCroix to be able to find you so he can turn you back into a vampire."  
  
   "Nat, you can't really think that, can you?" Nick spoke with pained  disbelief. "I've wanted to go back to being mortal almost from the very start. I've spent hundreds of years trying to find a way back. Yes, I'll admit it's quite an adjustment going from having special powers to feeling as helpless as a baby. But I realize this is only temporary. In time I'll heal and I'll adapt. I _want_ this, Nat. Don't ever doubt how much I want this."  
  
   Natalie held her head shamefully. "I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean to doubt you. It just sounded slightly like you didn't even want to try. Look, I know this was all my idea and I'm probably being a little pushy. So if you feel uncomfortable about solving the puzzle again, that somehow things might get worse, then don't do it. We'll just go to 'Plan B' like we discussed on our way here."  
  
   'Plan B' involved abandoning there lives in Toronto and trying to keep a few steps ahead of LaCroix. That would make it incredibly hard to settle down and raise a family -- the other thing which Nick strongly desired. 'Plan A' was more idyllic, in which he would solve the puzzle, make a wish, then they would be free to live their lives in peaceful harmony. Nick did have a slightly uneasy feeling about the puzzle, but if he did as Natalie suggested and be careful about making his wish, all should be well.  
  
   "I think we'll give 'Plan A' a shot," Nick decided at last. "After all, if it wasn't meant to be, this thing would already be on its way to the garbage dump." Pushing away the mildly disturbing doubts he harbored both about the puzzle and their immediate future, Nick gave Natalie an encouraging smile, letting her know everything was going to be all right.  
  
\--------  
  
   It had been a long night for Schanke. He was hungry and dog-tired when he stepped through the kitchen door from the garage. Even though he'd noted the absence of his wife's car, he automatically called out to let Myra know he was home. Stopping in front of the refrigerator to read the note she'd left for him hanging from a strawberry-shaped magnet, he discovered Myra had taken their daughter for an early morning orthodontist checkup. He vaguely remembered her mentioning something about trying to get the appointment moved up so they could leave on their trip to Grandma's before noon. She had tried to talk him into going with them to visit the in-laws, but he used the standard excuse he couldn't get away from the job. The truth was he got easily bored down on the farm with its peaceful, easy-going atmosphere. However, after the night he'd just experienced, a little peace and quiet seemed pretty inviting.  
  
   Schanke opened the refrigerator and contemplated his breakfast choices. The leftover meatloaf from last night's dinner seemed as good a meal as any. He grabbed the baking dish it was in, and as he closed the refrigerator door, he was startled by the sudden presence of someone standing on the other side. The container slipped from his hand but was caught before it ever had the chance of hitting the floor. His heart thumping loudly, Schanke stared in shock as the tall, pale gentleman dressed in black stood beside him, holding onto his intended breakfast.  
  
   "How -- what--?"  
  
   "Detective Schanke, do forgive me if I frightened you. That was not my intention."  
  
   Schanke took a couple of steps backwards, clutching at his racing heart as he sought to calm his nerves. "You nearly scared the life out of me. How'd you get in anyway?"  
  
   "Your wife allowed me entry. I explained I needed to speak with you and she assured me you would be along soon and it was quite all right for me to wait for your arrival while she ran her errands."  
  
   "Myra -- my wife -- said it was okay? She just let you in and said it was okay to stay here?"  
  
   "I assured her I was harmless and I would not touch any of your family's private possessions. I only wanted to speak to you about Nicholas."  
  
   "Oh, Nick." Suddenly it didn't feel so weird having the man in his home. It was the guy from the radio show Nick listened to all the time. Schanke had visited him down at the radio station after being involved in a shooting incident. He had been so upset after the shooting that he had begun to imagine Nick was a vampire. It took the enigmatic man with the melodious voice to help him face his own insecurities. Turned out not only was he a giver of good advice, he was also a relative of Nick's. Either a step father or uncle -- Schanke never bothered to question the exact relationship -- but the man did admit to being practically all the family Nick had.  
  
   Schanke took the baking dish from him and set it on the counter, then he motioned for his guest to sit at the kitchen table with him. "So I guess you've heard about the attack on Nick last night?"  
  
   "I had a suspicion something unfavorable may have befallen Nicholas, but as of yet I've been unable to contact him. Perhaps you know where he might be found."  
  
   "Well, not exactly. I dropped him off at Nat's this morning after they fixed him up at the hospital. Oh, it's nothing serious," Schanke was quick to add when he saw the bewildered expression on LaCroix's face. "He kind of got in a minor tussle with a suspect. But he was looking pretty decent last time I saw him."  
  
   "At Dr. Lambert's apartment?"  
  
   "No, actually, it was at the precinct in the parking lot. They had stopped by so Nat could drop off some papers. Nick said they planned to take a little road trip together now that his sun allergy problem was gone. Said if I didn't hear from them for a while, not to worry."  
  
   "You say he's cured of his sun allergy, is he?"  
  
   "Yeah," Schanke answered excitedly. He started to explain just how it came about, then realized how idiotic he'd sound with talk about magic puzzles and granted wishes. Instead, he decided to fudge a little on the truth. "Nat had been trying to come up with some kind of wonder drug for him, so I guess she finally worked out all the bugs. That Natalie, she's a pretty smart cookie."  
  
    "Perhaps too smart for her own good," LaCroix hissed.  
  
    The look of pure hatred on his uninvited visitor's face made Schanke a little nervous. "Yeah, well... look, I've had a pretty long night and I really could use some rest, so if you don't--"  
  
   "I'll need your help to find him," LaCroix cut him off abruptly.  
  
   "Find Nick? Like I said, he and Nat are spending some time together. I figure they're probably be back after the weekend."  
  
   LaCroix knew he could simply hypnotize the man into assisting him, but he thought it might go a bit smoother if he impressed upon him a certain urgency. "It's a matter of life and death," he informed him.  
  
   "Whose?"  
  
   "You recall Janette?"  
  
   "Oh yeah, do I! Is something wrong with her?"  
  
   "She happens to be quite ill," LaCroix lied convincingly. "She and Nicholas share the same rare blood type."  
  
   "And she needs him to give her a transfusion?"  
  
   "It would greatly improve her chances of a full recovery."  
  
   Schanke nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm sure Nick would want to be there for her. They seemed to have a pretty... interesting relationship."  
  
   "Then you will assist me in locating Nicholas?"  
  
   "Well, you've got that radio show," Schanke pointed out. "Nick listens to it every chance he gets. All you have to do is make a couple of announcements, and he'll hear it and give you a call."  
  
   "Unfortunately, that won't be until late tonight," LaCroix countered. "Perhaps in the meantime you might use your position with the police force to put out an All Points Bulletin, I believe it's called. After all, it is a medical emergency. And the quicker we act...."  
  
   "Yeah, you're right," Schanke agreed. "I'll call it in now." As he stood and headed for the kitchen phone hanging on the wall, he noted out loud how much easier it would be if Nick had taken his Cadillac. "That thing sticks out like a neon sign, but Nat has one of the more popular models around. But don't worry," Schanke added as he dialed the phone, "we'll get Toronto's best on it."  
  
   "Thank you, Detective Schanke. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated."  
  
\--------  
  
   The first stop for Nick and Natalie was at the veterinarian clinic where they had planned to drop off Sidney for what Nat hoped would be a very temporary stay. When Nick saw the rather small facility and the cramped cages, he couldn't help but have misgivings about leaving the animal behind. And when he saw the longing in Nat's eyes combined with the fear she may never see her beloved pet again, he relented and decided they would do whatever it took to keep the cat with them.  
  
   After leaving the vet's, Nick directed Natalie to drive to a public self-storage facility where he kept a few things tucked away. Among the treasured remnants of his past which had since become valuable antiques, Nick had squirreled away a trunk full of clothing, a locked safe containing thousands in cash and some emergency identification he'd had Aristotle prepare for him right after filling in all the gaps of his Nick Knight biography. It had been Aristotle's suggestion that Nick have a backup identity if he insisted on being a cop. Often, cops were killed on the job and although Nick had been successful so far in covering up his death defying injuries, sooner or later, something would happen that he wouldn't be able to explain away. He would be forced to move on quickly and start a new life elsewhere.  
  
   Upon collecting some clothes, money and his new ID, Nick suggested they find a hotel to hole up in for a day or two. He hoped solving the puzzle wouldn't take long, but he was sure it wouldn't be as easy as it had been the first time around. Trying to outthink his master, Nick figured LaCroix would concentrate his search on the airport terminals, train stations and shipyards. Assuming his offspring would want to get as far away from Toronto as possible, he wouldn't think to look in his own backyard as it were, and now since their link was no longer a factor, Nick felt it was safe enough to simply hide rather than flee.  
  
   Although he planned to hide, Nick thought it best not to hide too close to home. He and Nat drove to neighboring Hamilton about forty miles west of Toronto. They passed by several low budget hotels and motels that advertised vacancies on the signs out front, and when Nat pointed them out, Nick frowned, shook his head and said she deserved better than that. Natalie was tired from an exhausting night's work and wasn't quite so picky as long as the place was relatively clean. Still, it was rather flattering that Nick thought first of her needs and wanted her to have the best accommodations available.  
  
   The best turned out to be the Sheraton, which luckily accepted pets, but unfortunately was already booked solid. When Nick attempted to hypnotize the desk clerk into bumping someone off the registration list to accommodate him, Nat had to gently remind him he no longer possessed such useful powers. In the end, a friendly smile and a hundred dollar bill produced the desired effects. Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Simmons were settling down in their suite on the fourth floor. Natalie wanted to question Nick as to why he kept the same first name. Apparently, he'd used it many times throughout the centuries. It made her wonder if it was one of the methods LaCroix used to keep track of him over the years and if it were, why Nick would keep using it. On second thought, Natalie decided to hold her tongue regarding the matter. If all worked out, they would never have to worry about LaCroix again.  
  
   Standing shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror, Nick finally got the first look at himself as a born again mortal. His eyes were red and puffy from fatigue, and the large, purple bruise on his chin stood out in glaring contrast to his normally flawless complexion. He fingered the area lightly, noticing the slight swelling and tenderness still present. It could have been worse, he thought to himself, if it hadn't been for Schanke. Nick closed his eyes and placed his right hand over his heart, feeling it beat steadily in a way it hadn't for centuries. "Thank you," he softly whispered, unsure of exactly who or what he had to thank for this miracle, but feeling the need to utter the words just the same.  
  
   After washing up the best he could while keeping his bandages dry, Nick emerged from the bathroom dressed in a pair of his standard black, silk pajamas. Natalie was finishing up a call to room service, requesting a late breakfast. Upon hanging up, she rushed to Nick's side and helped him to sit down on the edge of the bed.  
  
   "You look dead on your feet," she commented. "No pun intended. How's the arm and ankle holding up?"  
  
   "Both throbbing a bit, but I can handle it."  
  
   "Well, be that as it may..." Natalie picked up a small, white bag from the night stand and pulled out two prescription bottles. She uncapped the first bottle and dumped out one white tablet onto her palm, then picked up a previously prepared glass of water. "Okay, listen," she said as she held the pill between her thumb and forefinger. "You're going to open your mouth wide, and I'm going to place this on your tongue. You're to hold it there until you get a sip of water in your mouth, then you'll tilt your head back and swallow the water and pill at the same time. Understand?"  
  
   Nick nodded. "I think so."  
  
   Following her instructions, Nick still had a little trouble getting the pill to go down smoothly. It took a full glass of water and several aborted attempts to get down one painkiller, followed by one antibiotic. Natalie assured him it would get easier with practice, then proceeded to pull back the covers in order to tuck him into bed.  
  
   "Nat," he objected, "I need to work on the puzzle now."  
  
   "You can do it off your feet," she informed him. "I still need to clean the gunk off it, so just relax and take it easy."  
  
   "Yes, mother," Nick teased as she hovered over him, adjusting his pillow and making sure he was comfortable.  
  
   "I took the liberty of ordering up some breakfast. I'm assuming you don't still have a hankering for blood?"  
  
   "No. But I'm not so sure I'm ready for solid food either. I can vividly recall what happened the last time. Never been so sick in my entire life. I spent over an hour on my knees in the bathroom getting familiar with the workings of my toilet."  
  
   "Yeah, well, trying to eat everything you see will do that. But we'll take it slow this time. Nothing too spicy or hard to digest. Maybe we'll start you off with a little lime Jell-O."    
  
   "Yum. I can hardly wait."  
  
    Nat planted a kiss on his forehead before picking up the puzzle and taking it into the bathroom to clean. When she returned in less than two minutes, she discovered her companion sound asleep. Natalie sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him for a moment. She'd had occasions to watch Nick sleep before and had been left a little unsettled by his deathlike appearance. This time was different. She took comfort in the fact his chest rose and fell with each breath of mortal slumber. Reaching out and taking hold of his hand, she became entranced by the new warmth it now produced. It was still hard to believe he was mortal, and she was somewhat dismayed she hadn't been the one responsible for his impossible dream coming true. She realized she was being selfish for even thinking it. Perhaps it was better this way. If Nick chose to stay by her side, she'd know it was because he had strong feelings for her rather than merely feeling grateful to her and thinking he owed her an immense debt.  
  
   Natalie gazed at the puzzle in her hand, finding it basically inconceivable a simple toy could create such a miracle. She smiled to herself and softly uttered an age-old adage. "Great things come in small packages."  
  
\--------  
  
   LaCroix slept very little that day. Normally he wouldn't let it bother him that his Nicholas had run away again. But that was when they still had their bond which made the art of tracking his offspring less arduous. Now he had to admit to himself he was somewhat worried, not because he wouldn't be able to find him, but rather he wouldn't be able to find him in time to keep him from doing something detrimental to his existence. If indeed he had somehow managed to become mortal, it was only a matter of time the consequences of being a mere mortal would catch up with him.  
  
   When the private phone in his office at the Raven began to ring, LaCroix snatched it up instantly and spoke a single word into the receiver. "Yes?"  
  
   "Mr. LaCroix?" Schanke's voice sought verification.  
  
   "Yes, Detective Schanke. Have you news?"  
  
   "Well, yes and no. I just got a call from dispatch. They located Natalie's car in the parking lot of a rental car agency. But there's something odd going on. The cop on the scene said he asked the girl at the counter if anyone named Natalie Lambert or Nick Knight had done any business there this morning. She told him no, but when he described Nick to her, she remembered him. You know, all women remembers Mr. Tall, pale and handsome, plus the fact he's kind of banged up and was hopping around on one crutch. Anyway, it appears he rented a car using some fake ID. The name he gave was -- get this -- Nicholas Simmons. Doesn't he know when you change your name, you're suppose to change all of it? You have any idea why he would do that? It's almost like he doesn't want to be found, but at the same time, he's dropping bread crumbs to be followed."  
  
   "I believe it's for my benefit," said LaCroix. "Nicholas and I have a game we like to play. It's sort of an eternal contest of hide and go seek."  
  
   "Ooookay," said Schanke, not daring to question that bit of information. "Well, anyway, I've put out a new APB on the other car he's riding around in now, so as soon as I hear something, I'll give you a buzz."  
  
   "Thank you, Detective. And I do apologize about delaying your trip with your family."  
  
   "That's okay. I'll catch up with them tomorrow. Like you said, this is a matter of life and death."  
  
   After hanging up the phone, LaCroix opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a map and a phone book. If Nicholas was traveling by car, that meant he couldn't have gotten very far. Not knowing exactly which direction he had taken would make the search a bit tedious, but having a name to track hotel stays would definitely aid his pursuit. He felt fairly confident this particular game of hide-and-seek would be over relatively soon.


	6. Go Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Nick and Natalie express their true feelings. In the past, Shalimar continues the tale of Demarcus.

   Natalie opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. It took her mind a few seconds to remember where she was and how she got there. When she turned onto her back, she saw Nick sitting up in bed next to her. His attention was focused on the puzzle he was flipping about in his hands. "Having any luck?" she asked.  
  
   "I've got the hind legs and tail in position," Nick responded without looking away from his task.  
  
   "That's more than I was able to manage. I played around with the thing for about ninety minutes, then I finally gave up."  
  
   "You were wasting your time. No one else will be able to solve it until it's finished with me."  
  
   "Say that again?"  
  
     Nick glanced at her and smiled. "Well, that is, if the legend is true. I'm due at least two more wishes. No one else will be able to solve it and make wishes until I've got the rest of mine out of the way."  
  
   "How would the puzzle even know who's solving it and who it owes wishes to?"  
  
   "If you're asking me how it works, Nat, I have no idea. Maybe it can recognize my touch or my aura or something. Who knows? It's magic."  
  
   "But what if you weren't able to solve it again? What if someone else at the precinct had walked off with it this morning? Are you saying it would never work for another person because it was waiting for you to get it again?"  
  
   "Well, it wouldn't wait for me indefinitely. I only have until the next full moon. After that, it would be up for grabs again."  
  
   "I see. So how long have you been up?"  
  
   "About an hour. Slept pretty soundly too. How about you?"  
  
   "Great. Except for the time your snoring woke me up."  
  
   "I don't snore," Nick denied with mock indignity.  
  
   "Maybe you didn't _use_ to snore," Natalie allowed. "But you most definitely do now. But it's not so bad. It was kind of comforting in a way, really. It let me know you hadn't changed back. You're still human."  
  
   Nick finally paused in his puzzle-solving and turned his full attention to the woman lying beside him dressed in pink, cotton pajamas. "Were you afraid I'd go to sleep and wake up a vampire?" he softly asked.  
  
   "The thought crossed my mind."  
  
   "And yet you laid down to sleep in the same bed with me?"  
  
   "Well, there is only one bed in the room. But even if you _did_ wake up a vampire, I knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt me."  
  
   "I wouldn't want to, but I might have."  
  
   "You didn't hurt me the first time we met. You were completely vamped out then and you didn't even know me. Still, you resisted harming me."  
  
   "That's only because I smelled the blood you kept in the refrigerator."  
  
   "Even if it hadn't been there, I don't think you would have hurt me, Nick. You couldn't. You're not like that."  
  
   Nick reached his hand out to caress Natalie's cheek. "There's so much you don't know about me, Nat. There's so much I haven't told you about myself, so much I could never tell you."  
  
   "I know everything I need to know about you already."  
  
   "You couldn't possibly know how much I love you."  
  
   Those were the three little words she had longed to hear him utter, but instead of being thrilled, Natalie couldn't help but question the depth of his sincerity. "About half as much as you love Janette?" she responded with a noticeable air of jealousy. When she saw the grievous expression on Nick's face, she quickly apologized for her statement. "I'm sorry. I had no right to say something like that. It's just -- before -- when we thought I'd cured you, the first thing you did was to race off to see Janette. You even wanted me to try the cure on her so she could be mortal too."  
  
   "That was the drug talking, Nat," Nick explained.  
  
   "Was it?"  
  
   Nick captured her hand in his and brought it up to his lips. After anointing the back of her fingers with a single kiss, he looked deeply into her eyes. "I'll be honest with you, Nat. My relationship with Janette is a special one. Yes, to a certain degree, I do love her and I probably always will. But my feelings for you can't compare. You're what I've been searching for all my life. You are everything to me. And the only reason I haven't told you so before was because I knew I could never give you the kind of life you deserve. And now...."  
  
   His voice trailed off as he tilted her chin and slowly guided her lips to his. All doubts Natalie previously harbored, melted away instantly with their first, real kiss. He had kissed her many times, but always a chaste peck on the cheek or forehead. This time he openly expressed the passion he had kept bottled up inside.  
  
    "Are you convinced now of my love for you?" asked Nick as he ended the kiss and tenderly nuzzled Nat's cheek with his nose.  
  
    Natalie was practically speechless. She had often wondered how it would feel to hear such endearing words and to be on the receiving end of something other than a sisterly peck. She decided that she needed another sampling to prove to herself that she wasn't dreaming. "I think I might need a little more convincing," she admitted with a wicked smile.  
  
    Nick obliged her, systematically showering her with tiny kisses on her nose, her forehead, each cheek, then finally ending up at her lips once again. He kept it gentle, his tongue teasing hers, making her want more than he was offering at the moment. It surprised him slightly when Natalie became somewhat forceful, grabbing his head and locking him into the kiss. She practically devoured him, giving him little chance to catch his breath now that he realized he needed to breathe on a regular basis. As her mouth feverishly ravaged his, Nat's hands became busy as well, slipping beneath his pajama top to massage his chest.  
  
    "Nat, maybe we shouldn't," said Nick when he managed to tear his lips away from hers.  
  
    "Shouldn't what?" Natalie replied as her lips found a new target. She began licking and nibbling at his neck, a highly erogenous area as far as Nick was concerned. He let out a soft moan and tilted his head back, luxuriating in her touch.  
  
    "You're so beautiful," she murmured in his ear.  
  
    "That's suppose to be my line," Nick smiled. His body stiffened and he let out a small gasp when he felt a warm hand burrowing beneath the waistband of his pajamas. "Nat, I don't think that's such a good idea," he warned as he gently grabbed her wrist to stop her explorations.  
  
    "Why not? Don't you want me?"  
  
    "Oh, Nat. You don't know how hard I've fought to keep my hands and my fangs to myself when I'm alone with you."  
  
    "Well, now since we don't have to worry about the fangs anymore...."  
  
    When she began kissing him hungrily, it occurred to Nick that he hadn't been the only one fighting to keep his hands to himself for the past few years. He was still somewhat apprehensive, thinking that at any second his vampire traits might be reawakened and he might go on the attack. However, Natalie had no such worries. As her eager hands worked their way down his body, pushing aside silken fabric to get to bare flesh, Nick voiced his concern once again.  
  
    "Nat, I think maybe we should wait."  
  
    Natalie misinterpreted his comment, assuming that he meant that they should allow a proper amount of time for courtship. "We've been waiting for three years, Nick," she pointed out. "It's okay. It's time." Her lips moved to his throat while her hand moved beneath his waistband again. This time, Nick could no longer fight off her advances. He gave into the sensation of a soft, delicate hand stroking and fondling him into a fevered state of arousal.  
  
    The bloodthirsty vampire may have no longer existed, but he had left behind a few of his emotions; one of which was the desire to dominate his victim. What little remained of the beast, suddenly roared to life. The gentle lovemaking that Natalie had been looking forward to became rough and forceful as Nick totally lost control. With swift and frenzied movements, he had Natalie stripped of her sleepwear and pinned beneath him almost before she had time to realize what was happening. The Nick she knew was nowhere to be found. Glaring out from demonic, lust-filled eyes was a total stranger who only had one goal on his mind.  
  
    "Nick, listen to me," Natalie spoke in a firm tone, hoping to break through to him. "I want you to make love to me. But you need to go slow, okay? Please! Go slow."  
  
    It didn't appear that he heard her, or if he had, her words had absolutely no effect on him. He stared hungrily at her exposed breasts, his breathing heavy and his eyes dark with desire. Nat gingerly reached a trembling hand up to his cheek, careful of his bruised chin, she tilted his face up slightly so that he could focus on her eyes. Her voice insisted that he look at her, and his eyes finally drifted upwards. When her thumb swiped slowly over his lips, she saw his expression begin to soften.  
  
    "That's it," Natalie whispered. "I know it's been a long time for you, Nick, but you just need to calm down and take things a little slower. There's no need to rush. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Nick."  
  
    At last, the stranger disappeared and Nick took his place. He lovingly kissed the hand that caressed his cheek, then dipped his head down to kiss his lover's lips. "I love you too, Nat," he replied with a tender smile. "I'm sorry I kind of lost it there for a moment. It's just been so long since--"  
  
    "It's okay. I understand."  
  
    "So, you still want to?"  
  
    "Well, we're kind of half way there already," Nat grinned, indicating their current positions.  
  
    "And you want it slow?"  
  
    Natalie blushed and nodded slightly. "It's been a long time for me too, so I think slow would be good."  
  
    Nick winked slyly and said, "I can do slow."  
      
    As it turned out, Nick could do slow very well. He'd had nearly eight centuries and countless women on which to perfect his technique. As he kissed and licked practically every inch of her body, Natalie couldn't help but wonder how much of his experience in pleasing women had come from Janette. But after he had her screaming in ecstasy for the third time in a row, she pushed all thoughts of Janette from her mind. Nick was hers now along with that very talented mouth and those wonderful, nimble fingers of his. By the time he finally entered her, she was more than ready and the word 'slow' was no longer a part of her vocabulary.  
  
    As he neared his peak, another of Nick's old, vampire attributes came to surface. Although there was no desire for blood, the compulsion to bite during climax was still strong. When Natalie felt Nick attempting to sink his teeth into her neck, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tried unsuccessfully to pull him away.  
  
    "No biting, Nick!" Nat screamed in his ear. "No biting!"  
  
    Apparently, he heard and understood her command. The pressure of his teeth on her skin disappeared, replaced by a gentle suckling action. After another moment his body stiffened as he moaned loudly, then he collapsed bonelessly on top of her and passed out cold.  
  
\--------  
      
    Nick awoke half an hour later to the smell of food filling his nostrils. He opened his eyes to see Natalie parking a meal cart beside the bed. She was dressed in cotton shorts and a tank top, with a towel wrapped about her damp hair. After removing the covers from several dishes, she glanced over to her drowsy companion and beamed a 100 watt smile.  
  
    "Hi! I was just getting ready to wake you."  
  
    "I fell asleep?" Nick asked groggily as he struggled to sit up.  
  
    Natalie was quick to give him a hand, reaching for the pillows and stuffing them behind his back. "You fainted," she informed him as she sat down on the edge of the bed facing him.  
  
    "Fainted? Is that normal? I mean, for a normal mortal man?"  
  
    "No, not for a normal mortal man, but I can see it happening to someone who's recently suffered some blood loss and who hasn't had any nourishment since last night. It's my fault, Nick. I'm sorry. I should have known better. I should have listened to you when you indicated that you weren't quite ready for sex. How do you feel now?"  
  
    Nick made a mental examination of his present condition. He noted that both his injured arm and ankle were throbbing painfully, apparently aggravated by his recent physical activities. He had a mild headache and his empty stomach was cramping from hunger. He started to inform Natalie of all his findings, but was afraid of worrying her unnecessarily. He simply smiled lazily and said, "Like the luckiest man in the world. How about you?"  
  
    "What a coincidence. I happen to feel like the luckiest woman alive." Natalie's cheeks blushed a deep rose color as she added, "And by the way, you, uh... you really know your stuff. That was quite impressive."  
  
    "Except for that," said Nick as he reached out a finger to touch the bruising passion mark he'd left on her neck. Luckily, the skin had not been broken and no permanent damage had been done. "I'm sorry. Old habits, you know."  
  
    "Yeah, I know. We'll just have to work on that. But first things first. We'll fill you up with some good old chicken soup, brush up on your pill swallowing, check on that arm and ankle, get you all cleaned up, then you can get a couple more hours of beauty sleep. How's that sound?'  
  
    "I’ll have to skip the sleep. I need to work on the puzzle."  
  
    "The puzzle can wait. Like I said, first things first." Natalie picked up a bowl and spoon and proceeded to hand feed Nick his first meal as a born again mortal.  
  
    With his first spoonful, Nick savored the taste and sighed blissfully. "I think I could get use to this."  
  
    "What? Chicken soup or me feeding you?"  
  
    "Us. You and me together. I could get used to it."  
  
    Natalie returned his adoring smile and replied, "Yeah, me too."  
  
\--------  
  
    Nick allowed Natalie to mother him up to a point. He consumed two bowls of chicken soup and swallowed his medication as he was told. He took a quick shower, but declined Nat's offer to inspect his injuries and refused the nap she thought he could use. He was more concerned with solving the puzzle, instinctively knowing that LaCroix had probably intensified his search for them. Nick had no idea how long it would take him to solve the puzzle, but he didn't want to waste whatever time he had left. He worked on it for three hours before stopping for a bathroom break which he almost didn't make in time simply because he was unfamiliar with the sensation.  
  
    Returning from his trip to the bathroom, Nick discovered that Sidney had taken over his spot on the couch. Nick sat down next to the cat and eyed it thoughtfully. The few times he had visited Nat's apartment, the cat had shown a definite disdain for the vampire, hissing at him whenever he ventured too close. While some animals had been completely unaffected by his presence in the past, there had been quite a few that became easily agitated or fearful of him. Since becoming mortal, Nick noticed that Sidney's attitude towards him had softened. The animal allowed himself to be petted for about thirty seconds before jumping off the couch and sauntering back into the bedroom to be with his mistress.  
  
    Nick picked up the puzzle again and started back to work on it. The sound of Natalie's voice as she cooed lovingly to her pet in the other room, penetrated his thoughts. She had offered to keep him company, but Nick thought she might become too big of a distraction, especially since their earlier activity was still fresh in his mind. Just the thought of her silky smooth skin against his had him squirming uncomfortably on the couch. He shook his head, silently reprimanded himself for allowing his mind to wander, then focused his concentration back on the puzzle.  
  
    It took another four and a half hours for Nick to nearly reach his goal. He was only one movement away from fully uncovering the dragon. Instead of proceeding, he stopped and set the puzzle aside. Once it opened up and implored him to make a wish, Nick wanted to be prepared. He already had proof that the thing could read minds, so he wanted to make sure his thoughts were precise. If he were to simply wish LaCroix out of his life, the puzzle might interpret that as him wishing his master dead. There was a time when Nick had wished for such an occurrence and he had even tried to kill the master vampire himself. They'd had a terrible fight in which Nick had gotten the upper hand and driven a burning stake through his heart.  
  
    Nick had thought that was the end of his master. He'd watched him become nothing but a pile of ashes.  At least that's what he thought he saw. He had glanced away for just a second or two, his eyes filled with tears as he grieved over the body of Alyce, the woman who had sacrificed herself to save him. A second was all LaCroix would have needed to escape unnoticed through the skylight, leaving behind his burning coat. Or perhaps he had become a pile of ashes after all, and because of his immense age was able to regenerate. It's when the ashes are completely scattered by the wind that regeneration becomes impossible. Nick never had the chance to check the ashes because he had passed out from exhaustion and lack of blood. By the time he came to, Natalie and Schanke were hovering over him out on the sidewalk while firemen were working to extinguish the fire in the loft.  
  
    At the time, Nick had believed that his master was dead, and although there was a sense of relief that LaCroix would no longer be around to torment him, there was also a feeling of great loss. LaCroix had been his father of sorts, and Nick was reminded of how caring and generous the vampire had been to him at the start of their relationship. No one could ever accuse LaCroix of having a warm and fuzzy side, but he did have his moments. He was, on many occasions, able to display his devotion and affection for his offsprings. Over the years, however, his devotion had become a twisted obsession, at least where Nick was concerned.  
  
    Nick picked up the puzzle again and contemplated making that final adjustment. He knew he didn't want to wish LaCroix dead, but he wondered how to make it so that his master would simply mind his own business. 'But, Nicholas, you _are_ my business,' Nick could hear his master's voice clearly in his mind. He shook his head at the thought and sighed wearily. Making a wish shouldn't be so complicated, but it almost felt like signing a legal document. All the stipulations had to be thought out carefully in advance. If he had taken the legend more seriously to begin with, he would have wished not simply for mortality, but to be a physically fit and mentally healthy mortal who would age gracefully and live untroubled for another fifty to sixty years.  
  
    Since there were no guarantees for a long and fruitful life, he’d simply have to hope and pray he’d live long enough to see his dreams of a normal family life and fatherhood come true. He understood too well, the fears Schanke had concerning the magic puzzle. After what happened to Stanley Melville and the memories Nick still carried from centuries ago, it was wise to tread lightly and plan ahead.  
  
\-------------  
Baghdad 1258  
\-------------  
  
    Shalimar had paused in her storytelling to sip from a cup of water. As she was about to continue, the distant gaze on her sole listener's face caught her eye.  
  
    "Does my tale disturb you?"  
  
    Nicholas jerked his head up at the question. "What?"  
  
    "I asked if my tale disturbed you."  
  
    "Why would you think it did?"  
  
    "Your eyes had a far off look to them. Is it my story? Do you wish me to stop?"  
  
    "No. The tale is fine. It just made me think of something. Of how you can want something so badly, but when you get it, things aren't quite how you imagined."  
  
    "You have had a similar experience? Is that how you became a demon?"  
  
    "Demon?" Offended by the word, Nicholas rose from his lounging position and moved to stand menacingly in front of his potential next victim. "Because I cheated death, you believe me a devil? I am immortal," he informed her as he traced his finger along the vein in her neck. "I will live to see entire civilizations emerge and blossom, then falter and perish. And through it all, I will never grow old and never know sickness. I will enjoy an eternity of perfect health and unlike you, I will never, ever die."  
  
    There was a glint of gold in his eyes and Nicholas could feel the vampire within ready to spring forth. He could also feel Shalimar's pulse racing frantically beneath his fingertips. She was terrified of him, yet she hid her fear well.  
  
    "You are very fortunate indeed if that is your heart's desire," said Shalimar. "As for Demarcus, even though he had received the freedom that he wished for, it was not as he had expected. He was left alone in the middle of the desert with no food or water, and he would surely perish if he could not find the magic box and make another wish."  
  
    Nicholas was no fool. He could see clearly what the young vixen was up to. She was trying to distract him from killing her by enticing him with more of her mythical tale. He admitted to himself that he was interested in learning the outcome. Besides, he had given her his word that he would let her live as long as he found her entertaining. If he disliked the ending of the story, he could always kill her later. He backed away from her a few inches, still keeping his hand lightly resting on her throat.  
  
    "Are you saying that he found the magic box again and wished himself out of the desert?"  
      
    "It's not quite as simple as that. Do you wish to make yourself comfortable before I continue?" Shalimar gestured towards the bed, hoping to generate some distance between herself and the demon. Nicholas finally conceded and drifted back over to the bed where he ensconced himself among the satiny pillows and directed her to continue. Breathing a relieved sigh, Shalimar unconsciously covered her exposed throat with one hand as she picked up the lost thread of her story.  
   
    "Demarcus decided to search the sand around where he had been lying, and yes, he did find the magic puzzle again. But when he tried to solve it, he found that it was not as simple as it had been the first time. You see, that is one of the secrets of the puzzle. It gives itself freely the first time one seeks to solve it. However, the second time does not come as easily. One has to work harder and longer to uncover the dragon. Demarcus did not know this and he became frustrated that it did not work as quickly as it had before. He thought perhaps it would not work at all, so he simply started walking, following the trail of the caravan headed towards the city. As he walked, to occupy his mind with thoughts other than of his own possible doom, he began to work the puzzle. And he thought about what he would ask for if the puzzle would take pity on him and grant him another wish. There was much for him to consider; how to save himself and of course, how to rescue his people from slavery."  
  
\--------  
PRESENT  
\--------  
  
    "Nick? Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," said Nat when she saw him jump slightly at the sound of her voice. She stood behind him and gently raked her fingers through his hair. "You've been at that thing for hours. Why don't you take a break?"  
  
    "I'm done," Nick casually informed her. "Just needs one more twist."  
  
    "Really? So... what are you waiting for?"  
  
    "Trying to make sure I get my wish right before I actually make it. I figure I have to be very careful and quite specific as to what I want to happen."  
  
    Natalie dropped her hand from Nick's hair to his shoulder, then gracefully perched herself on the arm of the couch. "What's to really think about? You just wish for LaCroix to go away and leave us the hell alone."  
  
    "And what if he left us alone, trapped inside an underground mausoleum?"  
  
    "Well, I suppose that wouldn't be any fun."  
  
    "No, it wasn't," Nick mumbled. When Natalie gazed at him curiously, Nick decided to explain. "I took something that belonged to him. A young woman he had spent three nights plying with wine and honey as a special treat for himself. My intentions were to free her, but instead, I lost control and had to have her for myself. LaCroix was not at all happy with my rash behavior, although he pretended to get over it fairly quickly. Several weeks later while in Rome, he lured me into the abandoned catacombs outside the city to show me something. He led me to where a beautiful young woman was lying asleep in one of the chambers. Basically, he was setting me up, making me think that he was preparing the girl for himself. He said something about the darkness and the dry, cold temperatures of the catacombs would give her blood a distinctive, old-world flavor. He said that she'd be ready in a few more hours and he planned to come back for her then.  
  
    "But he knew me too well. He knew that I would sneak back and try to rescue the girl or have her for myself. Once again, my impulsiveness got the better of me and while I was inside the chamber making a glutton of myself, LaCroix was outside, sealing the tomb."  
  
    "For how long?"  
  
    "Three nights. The walls, ceiling and floor were all solid stone. The door was cast iron and there was no breaking it down. I had to wait until LaCroix came back for me. By the third day, I was beginning to think he planned to leave me there to starve. When he finally returned to let me out, I was so relieved and grateful that I forgot to be angry with him.  
  
    Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "So that bastard seals you up in a tomb for three nights and you don't wish he would just crawl under a rock and die?"  
  
    Nick gave a minor shrug. "I did wrong. I was being punished."  
  
    "You weren't being punished, Nick, you were being abused. LaCroix may be a father figure to you, but he's an abusive father figure. And he needs to be stopped once and for all. I think you need to wish him out of existence."  
  
    Nick turned his head away from her to hide not only the shock but the hurt those words inflicted. He knew deep down that she was right, but it was hard to face the truth.  
  
     Natalie picked up on the distress her comment caused. She patted his hair and sighed. "Sorry. I guess making wishes isn't all that it's cracked up to be."  
  
    Nick reached his hand up to rub his stiff neck. "And a big pain in the neck as well."  
  
    "Tension. You need to try to relax." Natalie brushed his hand away, then gently probed the area he had been rubbing. "Yeah, your muscles are really tight." She stood up in front of him, then began to untuck his T-shirt from his jeans. "Come on. Off with this."  
  
    "Nat." Nick grabbed her hand to stop her from undressing him. He flashed her an embarrassed grin and timidly announced, "I don't think I'm up for that again."  
  
    "Oh, please. What do you take me for, some kind of a sex maniac? I only wanted to massage your neck and shoulders for you."  
  
    "Oh." Nick gave in easily at that point, stiffly raising his arms so Natalie could strip him of his T-shirt. Then, per her instructions, he stretched out face down on the couch, his arms at his side, his head turned towards the sofa back. Natalie placed a small pillow beneath his head, then proceeded to carefully kneed the aching muscles at the base of his neck and out towards his shoulders.  
  
    "Ahhhh," Nick sighed with contentment, "that feels good. I think I could get used to this too."  
  
    "I still can't get over how warm your skin is to the touch now," said Nat. "I remember when we first met, you were ice cold."  
  
    "I was DOA, Nat."  
  
    "And the best looking corpse I'd ever seen. I can remember actually wishing that I had the chance to meet you while you were alive. It's really weird how things worked out. Maybe it's fate, you know. Maybe we were destined to be together."  
  
    "That would mean that you're the true reason for me becoming a vampire," said Nick. "It was the only way I could live long enough to meet you."  
  
    "Whoa! That's deep."  
  
    "And now that we've found each other, fate has given us a way to stay together."  
  
    "And live happily ever after?"  
  
    A sudden knock at the door caused them both to start. A young man's voice announcing, "Room service," reminded Nat that she had indeed placed an order. She gave Nick a comforting pat on the shoulder to indicate that he should stay put and relax.  
  
    "Time for a little late-night snack," she told him as she went to answer the door. "I love that this place has 24-hour room service."  
  
    Nick raised his head long enough to verify that the visitor was only someone from room service there to fulfill a request. He laid his head back down and closed his eyes. He realized just how fatigued he was and knew that as soon as he finished eating, he'd be heading off to dreamland. He listened as Natalie thanked the attendant and received a cheerful response to have a good evening. "Oh, beg your pardon, sir," the young man was heard to say as he stepped out into the hallway. Nick thought nothing of there being another guest passing by outside. He heard the door close and lock, then lazily waited for Natalie to wheel the food cart over to the couch. When she called to him, there was a fear and urgency to her voice that caused him to snap alert. He raised his head and looked towards the entrance.  
  
    His heart virtually leapt to his throat. He was frozen with shock at the terrifying sight of LaCroix holding a trembling Natalie in a viselike death grip. He held her suspended a few inches off the floor, his left arm wrapped about her torso, pinning her arms to her sides, while his right hand gripped her chin, exposing her neck for biting. His eyes were red with fury and his fangs were extended, ready to strike.  
  
    "No!" Nick yelled, rising quickly from the couch and starting towards them. He then stopped dead in his tracks when he realized there was basically no way of fighting his old master or protecting Natalie. His eyes searched quickly for the puzzle, but it wasn't in easy view. Perhaps it had slipped between the cushions of the sofa or fallen onto the floor. There was absolutely no time to look for it, so Nick tried the only thing left. "Please, LaCroix!" he pleaded urgently. "Please don't hurt her!"  
  
    "Oh, I'm not going to hurt her, Nicholas," the vampire chuckled menacingly. He playfully kissed Natalie's cheek, then coldly announced, "I'm going to _kill_ her."


	7. Good-bye, LaCroix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Nick has a showdown with LaCroix. In the past, Demarcus makes his second wish.

    "Please, don't!" Nick implored adamantly. "I beg you, LaCroix, don't!"  
  
    His pleading fell on deaf ears, and it appeared that LaCroix would carry out his threat to take Natalie's life. With his bad ankle, Nick had no hope of rushing and tackling him. He could only stand and watch helplessly as his master threatened to destroy his world. He was about to scream for mercy when an orange blur suddenly raced across the room and launched itself at the vampire. Careful to avoid attacking his mistress, Sidney sought out the black fabric worn by the stranger and dug his sharp teeth and claws deeply into the vampire's flesh.  
  
    The cat clung tenaciously to the arm that was wrapped about his owner's waist. LaCroix let out a yelp of pain as he instantly released his victim in order to rid himself of the troublesome feline. Once Natalie was freed, Nick ordered her to get out and go for help. Nat didn't want to leave him alone, but there was little time to argue. She dashed out before she had the chance to see what fate befell her beloved pet. LaCroix grabbed the animal by the head and forced its teeth out of his flesh. He held the struggling wild cat up by the scruff of its neck, then flung it hard across the room. The heavy, pleated draperies over the windows provided the animal with the cushioning it needed to survive. There was a soft thud as it hit the window, but it latched onto the curtains with its claws for a second, then leapt to the floor. Sidney appeared slightly disoriented from the encounter with the window, but suffered no obvious injuries. He looked about for his mistress, and upon not finding her, he trotted off to search the bedroom.  
  
    LaCroix tended to his bleeding arm, licking the bite wounds a few times to heal them. "For such a small beast," he spoke to Nick, "that animal showed more guts than even you, Nicholas. He did what you were unable to do. But don't worry, I'm sure she couldn't have gotten too far. I'll hunt for her later. I'll put an end to that woman and her meddling once and for all."  
  
    "I know what you're thinking, LaCroix, but Natalie had nothing to do with the way I am now."  
  
    Wordlessly, the vampire stepped closer, then reached out to cup Nick's face with one hand. He studied his son's appearance carefully, noting the bruised chin and the tired, red-rimmed eyes. His eyes drifted downwards to the bandage that covered Nick's arm. He grabbed the arm and snatched off the bandage, hearing Nick hiss in pain as the adhesive tore away the hair on his arm.  
  
    "This isn't like before," said LaCroix as he stared at the stitched wound. "This isn't some drug affecting your mind causing you to believe that you are mortal. This is the real thing." He looked into Nick's eyes and asked. "How did she do it?"  
  
    "I told you. Nat had nothing to do with this."  
  
    " Explain!" LaCroix demanded as he released his grip.  
  
    "It's a... it may be a little hard to believe but... I guess you'd have to call it magic."  
  
    "Magic?"  
  
    "Yes. I made a wish."  
  
    "A wish?"  
  
    "Yes. I came across an ancient Chinese wish box. I heard about it in a legend once told to me by a harem girl centuries ago. If you solve the puzzle, then it grants you a wish. I solved the puzzle last night and it granted my wish. It's made me mortal again."  
  
    LaCroix frowned at the words. "It would appear so. And this magic wish box; where did you find it?"  
  
    "I was investigating a suicide case earlier. My partner discovered the puzzle in the trash at the scene and--"  
  
    "In the trash? Perhaps that is where it should have remained. And you say the previous owner committed suicide?"  
  
    "Apparently, he had some emotional problems."  
  
    "Yes, it would seem. So, where is this magic box now?"  
  
    Nick didn't want to give up the box, but he knew he had no choice. He turned away from his master and began looking for the puzzle. He picked up the pillow he had been resting his head earlier and found the puzzle wedged into the corner of the sofa. Nick thought that he would be able to pick it up and quickly make that final twist in order to make his wish, but his movements were no match for the speed of his master. LaCroix snatched the box from his grasp, then took a few steps away as he examined it carefully.  
  
    "It's quite beautiful," said LaCroix. "I take it that you move the pieces about until the dragon is completely formed?"  
  
    "Yes," Nick replied halfheartedly.  
  
    "And then you're entitled to make a wish?"  
  
    "Yes."  
  
    "It would seem that you're only one step away from solving the puzzle again. Am I correct?"  
  
    Nick nodded dejectedly and sighed. "Yes."  
  
    "I wonder what would happen if I finished it for you," LaCroix mused aloud. He noticed the anxious look that covered Nick's face, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open in an unvoiced desire to stop his master from making the attempt. LaCroix smiled devilishly as he twisted that last section of the puzzle which brought the dragon into alignment. Nick held his breath waiting for the box to open and display the crystal inside. When nothing happened, he realized that the puzzle was still waiting for him to solve it. He still had a chance. He just had to get his hands on it again, which meant that he needed to outwit his adversary.  
  
    LaCroix looked at the puzzle curiously. "What? No puff of smoke, no magic genie humbling himself to serve me? I must admit, it's rather disappointing. Am I missing something, Nicholas?"  
  
    Nick didn't bother to respond. He cast his eyes downward, trying not to show interest in the item that LaCroix held in his palm. He didn't want his master to know how much he wanted to get his hands on it. His only hope was for LaCroix to get distracted and put it down.  
  
    When he saw that Nicholas was refusing to answer him, LaCroix tried a different tactic. "Perhaps I'll simply make a wish anyway. In case it actually does work. My wish, Nicholas, is for you to forget all about this being mortal nonsense and come back to me where you belong." LaCroix looked from the dragon to Nick and raised his eyebrows questionably. "Well? Do I get my wish, Nicholas? Or do I go and hunt down all your little mortal playmates?"  
  
    "LaCroix, why won't you try to understand?"  
  
    "Understand what?"  
  
    "That _this_ is what I want. Being mortal is what I really want."  
  
    "You're a fool, Nicholas. You don't know what you want. You never have."  
  
    "I want this!" Nick retorted adamantly, raising his voice and eyeing his master defiantly.  
  
    The old vampire was momentarily taken aback by his son's assertive demanor. "I see. So, I imagine you expect me to simply allow you to run off and marry your doctor and raise a brood of rugrats in the suburbs. But even if I did turn a blind eye, there's still the Enforcers to consider."  
  
    "The Enforcers have no need to worry about me," said Nick. "I'm actually less of a threat to the community as a mortal than I was as a vampire. In my search to find a cure, I was always doing things that could draw attention to my being a vampire. But as a mortal, all I have to do is keep my mouth shut, which I plan to do. Nat and I can move to some boring little town where no self-respecting vampire would even care to set foot."  
  
    "You think it would be as simple as that?"  
  
    "LaCroix," Nick spoke with barely restrained excitement, "what has happened to me is a miracle! I've been given a second chance at a mortal life. I'm not sure I can explain to you just how important this is to me. I know you have never understood my desire to just grow old gracefully and die a normal death. But between the growing old and dying, I want to be a husband and I want to experience fatherhood. I want the trips to Disney World and the walks on a sunny beach. I want to attend the little league games and school plays and college graduations. I want normalcy, LaCroix."  
  
    "Normalcy?" LaCroix sneered. "You truly want this?" he asked, placing his hand on Nick's injured arm and squeezing mercilessly. The renewed pain forced Nick to his knees. "To be easily damaged?" LaCroix continued his querying. "To be weak and vunerable to death? I would be remiss in my duties as a parent if I allowed you to go on this way," said LaCroix. "You are my child, Nicholas, and it has always been my duty as a father to do what is best for you. The problem is that I've been far too lenient in allowing you to have your way. Now I feel it is time that I take control. You've had your little taste of mortality, so it's time for you to put away those childish fantasies and come back to the world in which you truly belong."  
  
    "If you bring me back across," Nick grimaced through the pain, "I swear, LaCroix, I'll walk into the sun the first chance I get."  
  
    "You're bluffing. You don't have the courage. You've never had."  
  
    "Take away from me what I've wanted so badly all these centuries and I vow I will find the courage. I don't want to become a vampire again, LaCroix, and I won't! If you will not allow me to lead the life I desire, then I'd rather not exist at all. I'm serious. If you are able to coax me back from the dead after taking my blood, then you'd better be prepared to watch me like a hawk. I _will_ walk into the sun the moment your back is turned and you will lose me forever."  
  
    LaCroix searched his child's eyes carefully as he listened not only to his words but his fast-beating heart as well. It was apparent that Nick was telling the truth about his intentions. LaCroix released the hold he'd had on the injured arm and took a few steps back.  
  
    "And what of the lovely Miss Lambert? You would leave her unprotected? Perhaps I could persuade her to take your place."  
  
    Slowly, Nick raised himself up off his knees and stood tall and strong on his feet, determination still written on his face. "I would kill her myself to keep you from getting your hands on her."  
  
    LaCroix was struck not only by the unexpected declaration but the fearless conviction he saw in those cool, blue eyes. The vampire had to consider his options carefully. Indeed, it was possible that Nicholas might reject him, might choose to cross over into the light instead of coming back as a vampire. The best way to prevent that would be to take a little of Nicholas' blood over a period of several days in order to first create an unbreakable bond before bringing him across. LaCroix used to create servants for himself that way in the early days. Unfortunately, the vampires who were thus bonded to him in that manner had a bad habit of becoming too clingy and needy. They lacked personality and a sense of independence. Eventually, they got on his nerves and he was forced to eliminate them. The vampire's train of thought was derailed when his child hobbled up to him and gently took hold of his right hand.  
  
    "Let me go, LaCroix," Nick requested in a quiet voice. "Please," he added as he raised his master's hand to his lips and kissed the ring on his finger. It was an act he had performed only once before, soon after first becoming a vampire. At that time he had requested that LaCroix return his mortality, but was told that it was far too late. His new master then informed him of what a great gift he had just been given and the wonders awaiting him in the future. Nick had kissed his father's ring and vowed to repay him for his gift.  
  
    "I owe you so much," Nick spoke softly, his eyes only half open and focused on nothing in particular. "I know I haven't shown much gratitude for the good things you've done for me. I seem to only focus on the bad. I can't even count the number of times you've rescued me when my own foolishness put my life at risk. You are like a father to me, caring for me when I'm hurt or in danger, punishing me when you feel I've misbehaved. I understand why you've done the things you have to keep me a vampire. And perhaps I'm being selfish, but I need for you to let me go now. What's happened to me is something very special and I don't want it taken away. Please, LaCroix, I beg you. Let me go."  
  
     A small smile appeared on the old vampire's face. His eyes shifted from the hands that still held a firm hold on his own, up to the eyes that timidly returned his gaze. "That was a very pretty speech, Nicholas. One might even think that you actually meant all that."  
  
    "I do," Nick was quick to respond, his eyes glistening with hopefulness. "Please, LaCroix," he begged for his freedom again, his voice barely a whisper. He thought for the briefest moment that he was getting through to him. The expression on his master's face was pensive, almost compassionate, but it quickly faded.  
  
    The vampire pulled his hand away from Nick's grasp and took hold of Nick's injured arm. He brought it to his lips to lap at the thin lines of blood seeping from beneath broken stitches. With eyes closed, he tasted the blood, remembering the flavor from nearly eight centuries ago and recognizing that which made it unique. He carefully licked the wound to aid in its healing and to help aleviate the pain. Nick hoped that the kind gesture meant good news for him, but when LaCroix released him and stepped back, the words he had to say were not what Nick wanted to hear.  
  
    "Perhaps there is a part of you that sincerely wishes for a mortal life and all its trappings, but there is also a part of you that craves what I have to offer. Ask yourself this, Nicholas: if you truly don't want me in your life, why do you leave me with such easy trails to follow?"  
  
    "I..." Nick started to protest but realized that there must have been some truth in the accusation. He looked away almost shamefully, offering no further response.  
  
    LaCroix gently patted his cheek. "You are my creation, Nicholas. Mine to possess. And I don't appreciate mortal quackery or mythical wizardry attempting to take away what belongs to me." With that statement, LaCroix lifted the magic puzzle he'd been holding in his left hand, and crushed it. The sound of breaking glass could be heard, and although the outside remained in one piece, it was now crumbled like a tin can. As Nick watched in despair, LaCroix tossed the puzzle away, not caring where it landed  
  
    "There will be no further discussion on the matter," LaCroix dictated as he made himself comfortable in a chair adjacent to the couch. "Now, I suggest you get dressed and prepare to depart. I'll take you back to the cellar in the Raven, where we can relive our first days together. How does that sound?"  
  
    It sounded like the death of his dreams. Nick glumly turned away to do what he was told. He picked up his T-shirt from the back of the couch and slipped it on. He then picked up his crutch which was lying on the floor in front of the sofa, and used it to steady himself and hobble towards the bedroom. As he was nearing the opened bedroom door, he saw the puzzle that LaCroix had crumbled and tossed away. Only now, it appeared to have been restored to its previous undamaged condition and in the position he'd last left it in with one movement away from completion. Nick stifled a gasp of surprise and thought quickly about the best way to retrieve the puzzle without alerting his master. He took another uncertain step forward, then faked a loss of balance and dropped to his hands and knees.  
  
    "You see," said LaCroix, not bothering to come to his aid, "mortality has its drawbacks."  
  
    Nick picked up the puzzle and with nervous anticipation, twisted the final piece into its proper place. He held his breath as he watched and waited for something to happen.  
  
    "What are you doing?" LaCroix asked suspiciously. His sharp hearing had picked up the faint clicking sounds the puzzle made as it began to open. When he didn't get an answer and saw that Nick had made no effort to stand up again, LaCroix decided to investigate. He stepped up behind his offspring and saw him mesmerized by what he held in his opened palms. "And what is your wish, Nicholas?"  
  
    Nick started at the sudden sound of his master's voice close to his ear. He still hadn't settled on a wish, and his mind was a jumble of indecisiveness. LaCroix walked around in front of him and stared down at his dazed child.  
  
    "I suppose you wish me dead, burned to ashes by the morning sun and scattered to the four corners of the earth?"  
  
    "No!" Nick was quick to answer.  
  
    "Why not? I thought that's what you wanted, to be rid of me once and for all. And it's not as though you haven't tried to kill me yourself before. Are you sure you don't wish that I was burning in hell for all eternity?"  
  
    Nick shook his head, not wanting such thoughts gaining substance in his brain. "No, LaCroix, I don't wish anything bad for you."  
  
    "Really? How touching. Apparently, there's still some love left. Well... what if you wish that we had never met?" When Nick shook his head at that suggestion, LaCroix mulled over the reason why it too was being rejected. "Oh, of course. If we never met, then you would not be here today becoming one with the lovely Dr. Lambert. I do see your dilema, Nicholas. Mmm..." he continued to ponder aloud. "Then perhaps we should go for something less complicated. You could simply wish for me to cease interfering in your life and allow you and your loved ones to live in peace."  
  
    LaCroix had spoken the words facetiously, but Nick rolled them around in his brain and realized that they would work. He lifted his eyes from the crystal sphere up to his master and nodded slightly.  
  
    "Yes," he uttered softly. "That is what I wish."  
  
    Both of their attention was drawn to the crystal sphere as it cast off a soft glow and the smoke inside whirled about until the words, 'As you wish,' were formed. Nick placed the flattened box on the floor and watched in silence as the ends folded themselves up to seal the crystal inside a square box, then the image of the dragon went into hiding once again.  
  
    With the help of his crutch, Nick rose to his feet and stood eye to eye with his former master. "Will you go away now, LaCroix and stay out of my life?"  
  
    LaCroix became somewhat befuddled. Thoughts that didn't really seem to be his own, suddenly flooded his mind. The idea that he should do as Nicholas requested took firm root, and after a moment, he nodded his head. "If that is truly what you desire, Nicholas."  
  
    "It is."  
  
    LaCroix lowered his eyes sadly. "Yes, well... perhaps it _is_ time we went our separate ways. Toronto has gotten rather boring of late. Perhaps I shall travel the world and concentrate on finding a new companion. Someone who will appreciate all that I have to offer. A female, I think this time."  
  
    "Sounds like a good plan," said Nick.  
   
    LaCroix started to head towards the entrance, but turned back suddenly to face him. He reached out to caress the bruised spot on his son's chin. "I've tried so very hard, to protect you from things that might do you harm. I let my guard down briefly and look what happens. You think that mortality will bring you happiness, but trust me, Nicholas, it will not. I know you better than you know yourself. Mortality is merely a toy that will easily break and as soon as it does, you will lose interest. I will ask that you reconsider your decision one last time. If you refuse me now, I shall not make the offer again."  
  
    Nick shook his head. "No, LaCroix, you don't know me that well. This _is_ what I want. I won't tire of it and I won't change my mind."  
  
    LaCroix stared into his son's eyes and read within them, an unwavering finality. The vampire finally conceded with a deep sigh and a nod of his head. "As you wish, Nicholas."  
  
    There was a moment of awkward silence which was interrupted by the sudden opening of the entrance door. Natalie had returned, flanked by two, beefy men wearing matching navy blazers with the hotel emblem on the breast pocket.  
  
    "Hotel security," said one of the men. "Mr. Simmons, Mrs. Simmons here says there's some kind of disturbance?"  
  
    "It's okay, Nat," Nick spoke up. "Everything's all right now. LaCroix was just leaving."  
  
    "Would you like for us to escort the gentleman out?" asked the other security officer.  
  
    LaCroix answered that question. "That won't be necessary. I know the way."  
  
    "Well, why don't we just accompany you down to the lobby? We're headed that way anyhow."  
  
    "Oh course," LaCroix replied in a surprisingly polite manner. He turned to Nick once again for  a few final words. "Do take care of yourself, Nicholas. I must say, it has been my greatest pleasure knowing you."  
  
    Despite the forced smile on his former master's face, Nick was able to catch a glimpse of unshed tears in the vampire's normally stealy eyes. The tiniest bit of regret nudged the back of Nick's mind. He wondered, ever so briefly, if he was doing the right thing by casting his old friend out of his life. Then he realized that their bond needed to be broken cleanly and completely if he ever hoped to live a normal life.  
  
    "Good-bye, LaCroix," said Nick, holding his hand out to shake. As the vampire grasped his hand firmly," Nick added, "I'll never forget you."  
  
    A pained smiled flirted across LaCroix's face as he slowly released Nick's hand. Without another word, he turned and headed for the door, but paused when he reached Natalie. "It appears that you've won, my dear. Enjoy what little time you have left with him."  
  
    It had sounded like a threat, but the expression on the old vampire's face seemed more regretful than menacing. He glanced back ruefully at his child for just a second, then walked away without further comment, one of the security guards sticking close by.  
  
    "Mr.  and Mrs. Simmons, if you have any further problems, don't hesitate to call."  
  
    "Thank you," said Nat as the man closed the door on his way out. She secured the safety latch on the door, then raced over to Nick and threw her arms around him. "Are you all right?" she asked, pulling back a bit to get a good look at him.  
  
    "Yeah, I'm fine," Nick reassured her with a kiss to her cheek.  
  
    "I was so scared. I wasn't sure what I'd find when I stepped back through that door. What happened exactly?"  
  
    "I made my wish."  
  
    "Which was?"  
  
    "For LaCroix to butt out of my life and leave us to live in peace."  
  
    "That's it? I mean, do you think that's going to be enough?"  
  
    "Well, so far, it seems to be working. He's gone. Walking away empty-handed is not what he had planned when he came here. But something miraculously compelled him to do just that."  
  
    "So you think it's safe for us to stay here? You believe that he's gone for good?"  
  
    "Yeah," Nick nodded with a hint of melancholy. "I don't think we'll ever see or hear from him again.  
  
    "What about that last comment he made? About me enjoying what little time I have left with you. It sounded kind of like a threat, as though he didn't expect for us to be together for too much longer or something."  
  
    "LaCroix is under the mistaken perception that I will soon get bored with being mortal and that I'll want to go back to being a vampire again. But, he's wrong, Nat. I could never go back to that living hell. Never. So I guess you're stuck with me from now on." Nick pulled her to him and gave her lips a soft kiss.  
  
    Natalie sighed blissfully in his arms for a brief moment, then let out a sudden gasp and pulled away. "Sidney!" she exclaimed fearfully. "Is he all right? LaCroix didn't hurt him, did he?"  
  
    "Not really. He sort of flung him across the room. The curtains kept him from getting injured but I think the incident may have left him a little shaken. He ran into the bedroom. You may want to go check on him."  
  
    Natalie hurried off in search of her cat and found her distressed pet hiding beneath the bed. While she was on her hands and knees trying to coax the animal to come to her, Nick leaned against the doorway, his attention focused on the puzzle box he had picked up off the floor. His thoughts drifted back to a time long ago.      
  
\-------------------  
Baghdad - 1258  
\-------------------  
  
    "Demarcus walked for miles in the desert. The lack of water and the heat of the blistering sun robbed him of his strength until, at last, he could no longer go on. It was nearly sunset when he collapsed to the ground, exhausted and near death. All the while, he had been praying to his god for deliverance, and without forethought, his hands had worked to solve the puzzle. He still had hope that the box would open for him again and grant him another wish. The noble idea that he had earlier of saving his people from slavery had been pushed to the back of his mind. The thought that consumed him now was the desire to live.  
  
    "And just at the moment he was about to give up, he saw the image of a dragon appear on the magic box. Then there were clicking noises like he had heard the night before. The crystal sphere inside showed itself. Demarcus was too weak to speak the words aloud. He could only think them. 'Please, I do not wish to die,' is what he told the magic crystal. He saw the smoke form the words, 'As you wish,' then the crystal went into hiding once again. A moment later, Demarcus fell unconscious."  
  
    Nicholas waited impatiently for Shalimar to continue. She had paused for a moment to sip from her cup of water. He didn't believe that she was actually thirsty, but rather stretching out the suspense. He had to admit that she was an excellent storyteller. He idly wondered if he drank her blood, if he would be able to capture all the tales she knew. LaCroix had taught him that drinking the blood of the very talented, although momentarily very satisfying, wasn't quite the same as experiencing those talents first hand. It was possible that he could know a small sampling of her stories through her blood alone, but he knew he wouldn't have the richness and detail that only she could deliver personally.  
  
    "Do you plan to finish this tale some time this century?" he finally asked, his voice filled with impatience.  
  
    "Of course," she replied calmly, knowing she had him in the palm of her hands, at least for the moment. "Where was I?"  
  
    "Demarcus was unconscious."  
  
    "Oh, yes. After making his wish, Demarcus fell into a state of unconsciousness. He lay there for several hours. The sun had gone down and the moon was high. A lone traveler happened upon the young man dying in the desert. Demarcus was faintly aware of hands holding him and a voice talking to him, asking him if he wanted to live. He could only offer a hint of a nod, then he felt a sharp pain in his throat. He wanted to scream out, but too quickly the pain turned pleasant and he wanted it to continue. Soon, the touch at his throat disappeared and the flesh of another was pressed against his lips. He was encouraged to drink the moisture he found there."  
  
    "He was bitten by a vampire," Nicholas concluded. "A demon," he added, using her term for it.  
  
    "Yes. And so his wish not to die had been fulfilled."


	8. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The joys of Nick's newfound mortality are short-lived.

    Natalie was having a ghastly dream, one in which LaCroix had broken into her bedroom and somehow paralyzed her. He forced her to watch as he turned Nick back into a vampire, then instructed a vamped-out Nick to make his first kill. Unable to move as she lay helpless on the bed, Natalie could only cringe inwardly as the golden-eyed, young vampire came towards her with no look of recognition in his eyes, only an uncontrollable hunger for her blood. He crawled onto the bed and shifted Nat onto her side so that he could spoon himself about her from behind. Natalie heard him growl at LaCroix to go away, and saw the master vampire immediately do what he was told.  
  
    Instead of a bite on her neck, Natalie felt a tender kiss on a spot just beneath her earlobe. She began to relax as warm hands traveled gently over her body and sweet words of love were whispered into her ear. She let out a soft moan as one hand moved down between her legs and began to pleasure her. By the time she felt something hard and hot entering her from behind, Natalie was wide awake. When she shifted her leg to make penetration easier for him, Nick took that as a sign to thrust faster, deeper, harder. He was murmuring in her ear, incomplete sentences that still managed to convey his thoughts. "...beautiful...so good...love you."   
  
    Natalie screamed out in pleasure as she reached her height of ecstasy, then moaned contentedly as she slowly felt herself float down. Behind her, Nick was still going strong. When she felt his hot breath at her neck, Nat became concerned that he might try to bite her as he had done the first time they'd made love. She tensed slightly and waited. The feel of teeth on her skin never materialized. All she felt was the heat of his heavy panting. A moment later, Nick let out a loud groan as his body stiffened against hers. After a few seconds, he eased away from her and rolled onto his back, exhausted and out of breath.  
  
    Natalie tugged the ends of her short nightgown back down over her hips, then shifted around to face him. She became somewhat concerned, seeing his eyes were squeezed shut as though in pain. She also noticed how sweaty and pallid his naked skin appeared and how hard it seemed for him to calm his breathing.  
  
    "Nick? Are you okay?"  
  
    Nick heard the concern in her voice and instantly opened his eyes. He smiled disarmingly and spoke in-between snatches of air. "Did I... wake you?" he managed to joke.  
  
    Natalie grabbed the top sheet and pulled it up to cover his exposed body to prevent him from getting a chill from the air conditioned room. She used one corner of the sheet to wipe the sweat from his face. "Looks like you just got through running a marathon.  
  
    "Least...I didn't...faint."  
  
    "Well, I guess that's an improvement then," said Nat as she finished mopping the moisture from his face and neck. She propped herself up on one elbow and placed a hand on his bare chest, detecting the fast-paced beating of his heart. "Looks like you're seriously out of shape," she spoke softly. "It's like your body isn't use to this level of physical activity. I know that when you were a vampire, you had all kinds of strength and vitality, but now, it's kind of like your body has to completely start over. Or perhaps, you're merely picking up where you left off before you became a vampire. Were you in decent shape back then?"  
  
    Nick nodded his head, his breathing a little closer to normal as he spoke. "Pretty much. It was during the Crusades and I had been at battle for quite some time. Of course, you tend to use a different set of muscles wielding a sword than you do making love to a woman."  
  
    "I would hope so," Natalie grinned.  
  
    "And it had been a while since I'd been with a woman. I suppose that's why I fell so easily and hopelessly for Janette."  
  
    "You know, I'm trying very hard not to get jealous when I hear that name," Natalie admitted, "but so far, I'm not having much luck."  
  
    Nick picked up Nat's hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before placing it back over his heart again and leaving it covered with his. "I tell you what, Nat, I know there must be an old boyfriend in your past that you loved and probably still have fond memories of. Why don't you tell me about him so I can have someone to be jealous over."  
  
    "No, that's silly. I don't need you to be jealous of Stuart."  
  
    "Stuart, huh? I hate him already," Nick teased. "Tell me about him."  
  
    "Not much to tell really. I met him in college. We got along great. There was some talk about marriage, but we couldn't quite agree on things like where to live or whether or not to have children. I was for it but he wasn't all that keen on the idea."  
  
    "I want kids," said Nick. "At least half a dozen. What do you think?"  
  
    Nat chuckled lightly and replied, "I think you have a wonderful sense of humor."  
  
    "Oh, I'm not saying you should give birth to them all at once," Nick teased, "however, in the grand scheme of things, that would be quite a time-saver."  
  
    "You are seriously warped," Natalie laughed, then leaned over and kissed his lips. "But I love you anyway. Now, why don't we get up and get out of this hotel room for awhile. The sun is still up, and you could definitely use some. Get a little color in your cheeks."  
  
    "Yes, ma'am." Nick gave his love a passionate kiss, before rising to get out of bed. As he turned his back to swing his feet to the floor, Natalie let out a gasp of surprise at seeing black and blue bruises covering his upper torso.  
  
    "Whoa! What the hell happened to your back?"  
  
    "What do you mean?"  
  
    Natalie  got to her knees directly behind him and ran a gentle hand across his shoulder blades. "It's all bruised up." Nat frowned at the thought of what could have caused the bruising. "I think this is from when I gave you that massage last night. Either I don't know my own strength or you've got a serious vitamin C deficiency. Does it hurt?"  
  
    "No. It feels fine."  
  
    "I think we need to get you started on some mega-vitamins. If your body has returned to your pre-vampire state, I guess it's safe to assume that you probably weren't getting enough of your four, basic food groups."  
  
    "I remember eating a lot of red beans, wild boar and rabbit. Fresh fruits and vegetables were kind of hard to come by on the battle fields."  
  
    "I can only imagine. Well, it might not be a bad idea to get you a complete physical," said Nat. "Along with some allergy testing. We don't want to find out the hard way that you're deathly allergic to shell fish or strawberries or chocolate chip cookies. If you like, I can make an appointment for you tomorrow to see a doctor."  
  
    "I thought _you_ were my doctor."  
  
    "I was your doctor while you were a vampire. I think that now you can benefit more from someone who practices on the living."  
  
    "I suppose. Won't be half as much fun though." Nick stood up, keeping his weight off his sore ankle, then held his hand out to Natalie. "Come on and help a frail, malnourished, ex-vampire take a shower. You wash my back, I'll wash your front."  
      
\---------  
  
    After getting showered and dressed, Nick and Natalie left the confines of their love nest to explore the rest of their surroundings. Since Nick was still dependent on his crutch, they decided not to stray from the hotel premises. Luckily, everything they desired was easily accessible. The hotel played host to three restaurants, two swimming pools, a game room, and a wide array of stores for gifts and wearing apparel.  
  
    They began their evening enjoying a light meal while lounging by the pool and soaking up the warm rays of a perfect sunset. That was followed by some time in the game room testing their abilities to shoot down alien spacecraft, and coax little balls into small holes and big balls into nets. A shopping spree ensued afterwards. Nick took pleasure in watching Natalie put on a fashion show for him. She tried on several different outfits before finding something that really seemed to interest her beau. She walked out from behind the curtains wearing a red, satiny cocktail dress with thin straps and just a hint of cleavage showing. Nick suggested that Nat leave the dress on and find her some shoes and accessories to go with it while he excused himself to go to the bathroom.   
  
    With the help of a very courteous sales clerk, Natalie had found the perfect shoes, purse and earrings to go with her dress. When she looked around for Nick, thinking that he should have returned some time ago, she saw him making his way over from the men's shop across the way. He had traded in his khakis and pullover shirt for a black, three-piece suit and red, satin tie. Natalie whistled appreciatively as he hoppled over to her on his crutch. Even with his face bruised, the man still looked like the sexiest thing on earth.  
  
    "I thought we'd dress for dinner," Nick explained as he approached.  
  
    "Well, you'll get no complaints from me."  
  
\--------  
  
    Lighted candles on each table and the soft music from a grand piano provided the restaurant with an ambiance suitable for lovers. Nick allowed Natalie to order for him, knowing that she would pick something easily digestible. He had graduated to solid foods, but they decided to keep his diet simple for the time being. He dined on skinless, baked chicken breast, and a serving of green peas and rice while Natalie tried not to make a pig of herself as she enjoyed a generous seafood platter.  
  
    Midway between their meal, Nick summoned the waiter and requested some champagne. When Natalie asked him what the special occasion was, he merely smiled impishly at her, then slid from his chair to drop down on one knee at her side. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small, black velvet box and held it up in front of her. Natalie's mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide in disbelief as he opened the box to reveal a three-carat engagement ring.  
  
    Natalie finally closed her mouth and tore her eyes away from the ring as Nick reached out to loosely grasp the fingers of her right hand. She could actually feel him trembling as he kissed her opened palm. Afterwards, she watched him swallow hard, then inhale and exhale deeply in preparation. She had never seen him look so nervous or so much like a little boy hoping to convince Santa that he's been good all year long. Finally, he got his courage up and offered a tender smile as he began to pour out his heart to her.  
  
    "Feeling a little nervous all of a sudden," he began. "But anyway... Natalie, I wanted to let you know how much you mean to me. My life was changed forever from the very first moment we met. You've been there for me whenever I've needed you. And you believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. You've kept my secrets and stuck by me when any sane woman would have run the other way, screaming." Nat let loose a tiny chuckle even though tears were beginning to form in her eyes. Nick could only hope they were tears of joy. He took another deep breath, then continued. "Well, to make a long story short; in the immortal words of the wonderful Stevie Wonder: 'You are the sunshine of my life.'" As he slipped the ring onto her finger, he added, "I love you with all my heart, Nat. And you'll make me the happiest mortal alive if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Will you marry me?"  
  
    The tears of elation were flowing in earnest now and Natalie could hardly find the voice to respond. She nodded enthusiastically, squeaked out a, "Yes!" then swooped her arms around the neck of her fiance. As Nick embraced and kissed his bride to be, applause erupted in the restaurant with a cacophony of ooh's, ahh's, whistles and one "You go, girl!"   
  
    Apparently, Nick wasn't quite finished with his open display of affection. He stood up, took Natalie by the hand and led her over to the piano. After lifting her up onto the piano top, he whispered something into the pianist's ear, causing the man to stop playing instantly and relinquish his spot. Nick took a seat in front of the keys and proceeded to play the introduction to a contemporary love song. Natalie had only known him to play classical tunes before, so she raised her brows in surprise over what she heard. Her amazement grew considerably when Nick segued into song. She already found his speaking voice to be remarkably sexy, but she never imagined how seductive his singing voice would be. The lyrics to the song were few and simple but spoke volumes about his feelings for her.  
  
 _"You are so beautiful to me._  
 _You are so beautiful to me._  
 _Can't you see?_  
 _You're everything I hoped for._  
 _You're everything I need._  
 _You are so beautiful to me."_  
  
    As Nick's fingers coaxed the enchanting melody from the keys, Natalie stole quick glances about the room and saw a mingling of warm smiles, couples holding hands, and heads nodding in time to the music. Her eyes settled back on Nick and found him beaming a large grin. Upon completing the final refrain, the applause sounded out louder than before. Nick stood and kissed Nat passionately before helping her down from the piano. Afterwards, they returned to their table, pausing to accept handshakes and offers of congratulations from the other patrons. Eventually, things returned to normal as everyone resumed eating and continued their private conversations, no doubt with something new to talk about.  
  
    Their champagne was waiting for them when they got back to the table and despite Natalie's warning, Nick took a sip anyway as he toasted their upcoming nuptials. Later, he had a nagging thought as he watched Nat stare at the ring he had placed on her finger. "If you don't like it, we can go to the jewelry store and you can pick out something else," he suggested.  
  
    "No, this is perfect," said Nat enthusiastically. "It's gorgeous. When did you get it?"  
  
    "That day we thought you had cured me. After I dropped you off at your place, I drove around town for awhile and I saw this jewelry store. If the drug hadn't turned me into a complete basket case, I probably would have proposed then. Things didn't exactly work out the way I hoped, but I decided to hold on to the ring anyway, just in case. So, when would you like to stroll down the aisle? Anytime you say."  
  
    "Well... uh...I don't know," Nat answered, still feeling wonderfully thunderstruck by both the proposal and the serenade. "I'll have to think about that. I've always dreamed of a big wedding that takes months to plan, but if you'd rather--"  
  
    "Whatever you want, Nat," said Nick as he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "However you want it and whenever you want. Just say the word and it's yours."  
  
    "You know, I just realized that I don't have a reason to be jealous of old what's-her-name."  
  
    "No, you don't."  
  
\--------  
  
    By the time they finally called it a night and started to head back to their room, Nick had begun to feel slightly nauseated. It was easily apparent to him that he had overdone it. He probably should have stayed away from solid food and definitely should have avoided the champagne. But it had been a special occasion, and if a little upset stomach was his price to pay, he considered it well worth it. He was able to hold himself together until they reached the room. Not wanting Natalie to worry about him, he didn't mention to her how he was feeling. He simply told her that nature was calling and excused himself to go to the bathroom.  
  
    After closing the bathroom door, he quickly dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and emptied out the contents of his stomach. Thankfully, it was nothing like the last time, back when Natalie had tried her cure on him. The effects of the drug had led him to eat practically everything he came in contact with. It wasn't until the following day that his specialized digestive system revolted and everything was spewed forth in a series of laborious and painful convulsions. This time, the cramping was less severe and short-lived. He flushed the toilet and cleaned up whatever mess hit the seat.  
  
    After a few moments, he felt well enough to stand. He stood over the sink and turned on the faucet. Cupping his hands beneath the running water, he collected enough to rinse out his mouth, then splashed his face with the cool water. Grabbing a hand towel from off a nearby rack, he dried his face, feeling infinitely better than he had five minutes ago. Figuring that his breath probably wasn't smelling too fresh, he picked up a glass from the counter and poured a few ounces of mouthwash into it. After a quick gargle he spit it out and prepared to finish up with a final glass of water.  
  
    As Nick held the glass under the running water, he became puzzled at the sudden appearance of a red spot near the center of the sink. He turned off the water and set the glass on the counter, then leaned down closer to the basin to get a better look at the red spot. As he stared at the white bowl, he was surprised to see another spot appear, followed quickly by two larger ones. Blood, he thought to himself, then wondered where it could be coming from. He didn't make the obvious connection to himself until he glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror. There was a tiny river of red flowing from his left nostril. He stared at it curiously for a few seconds, then wiped it with his fingers. The sight of his crimson covered fingers began to stir up certain emotions that he had assumed were no longer an issue. Tentatively, he stuck out his tongue and licked the blood from his fingers.  
  
    To his surprise, he found the taste of blood -- even his own -- rather comforting. He wiped away another stream that had formed above his lips and licked that from his fingers as well. He closed his eyes as images of some of his past victims came to mind. The blood on his tongue reminded him of the beautiful young women he had feasted upon an eternity ago. The blood continued to trickle steadily from his nose, and Nick held his hand cupped beneath it to capture the drops that formed into a tiny puddle. When he had collected about a teaspoonful in the palm of his hand, he lapped it up greedily.   
  
    "Nick? Are you okay in there?" Nat called to him from the other side of the door.  
  
    He didn't know how long he had been in the bathroom altogether, but obviously, it had been long enough for Natalie to become concerned. Her voiced had startled him back to reality, and as he saw himself in the mirror, drinking his own blood, a overwhelming sense of shame flowed through him.  
  
    "Nick?"  
  
    "I'm fine. Be out in a minute," he called back. "Old habits," he said to himself before pinching his nose close to force the bleeding to stop. He could feel the blood draining to the back of his throat and instead of spitting it out through his mouth, decided to swallow instead. He figured it would be simply absorbed back into his system. It took a couple of minutes before the blood flow stopped altogether, then Nick quickly cleaned away all telltale traces. As he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him, Natalie looked at him curiously and asked what took him so long. He hated the thought of lying to her but he felt that telling her the truth would only cause her unnecessary anxiety. Instead, he flashed an embarrassed smile and said, "Let's just say that we need to give the exhaust fan time to air things out in there."  
  
\--------  
  
    After checking out of the hotel and returning to Toronto, Nick moved some of his things into Nat's apartment. Although his loft was roomier, it held too many reminders of the lifestyle he wanted to forget. There were wedding plans still to be made and decisions about whether to remain with the police force or simply travel the world and live off Nick's millions. He had first become a cop in order to help others -- and to a point -- atone for his past sins. He could still help others, but now as a mere mortal, he thought that perhaps he should choose a less dangerous occupation in which to achieve that goal.  
  
    Until a final decision could be made, Nick returned to the precinct but was restricted to light desk duty because of his injured ankle. A full week later, and it was still fairly painful, even when he wasn't putting his weight on it. Sometimes the joint would spasm for no particular reason, but he merely assumed that was the normal way sprains reacted and eventually the problem would soon disappear. Natalie had made a doctor's appointment for him to get a complete physical, but the earliest she could get it was another three days away. Nick figured he could hold out until then.   
  
    Nat had also bought him some vitamins; the chewable kind since she knew he didn't like swallowing pills. So far, they had done very little to increase his energy level, and chewing on them only seemed to aggravate his gums which had recently become swollen and easy to bleed when he brushed his teeth. He knew he should have probably mentioned that fact to Natalie, but he didn’t want her to worry about him. He didn’t want her to think that his being mortal was anything but good. Luckily, he had been able to hide his discomfort from her. It also worked in his favor that Nat had been putting in some very long hours all week on the job and was too tired to do much of anything other than eat and sleep once she got home.   
  
\--------   
  
    Nick stifled a yawn as he sat at his desk trying to concentrate on typing up one of the many backlogged reports he and his partner had yet to file. He glared blankly at the cup of hot coffee that was suddenly set down in front of him.  
  
    "Caffeine," said Schanke. "You look like you could use it."   
  
    Nothing else seemed to be working, so Nick thought he'd give it a try. He took a tiny sip and frowned at the bitter taste. "You actually like drinking this stuff?" he asked.  
  
    "Of course not. I don't drink it because I _like_ it, I drink the stuff because it keeps me from falling asleep at my desk. What's up with you anyway? You look like death warmed over. What is it? Is Nat proving to be too much woman for you or something?"  
  
    "Schanke." The name was said as a simple warning not to go there.  
  
    "Sorry," Schanke apologized sincerely. "You guys set a date yet?"  
  
    "Not yet. Once Natalie figures out what type of wedding she wants and how long everything will take to come together, then we'll make an official announcement. Until then, just keep this to yourself, okay?"  
  
    "Of course. You think I can't keep a secret?" Schanke glanced at his watch to verify what his stomach was already telling him. "I'm starving. You wanna go get something to eat?"  
  
    "Thanks, but I'm not very hungry, Schank."  
  
    Schanke looked his partner over carefully, noting the paler than usual complexion and the heavy bags beneath his eyes. "You coming down with something? You really don't look too good tonight."  
  
    "I'm fine. Just tired."  
  
    "Well, come ride with me to the diner. The night air might do you some good."  
  
    Nick started to turn him down again, but considered a night time drive might just help him lose the headache he sensed coming on. Schanke was both pleased and worried as he watched his partner slowly rise to his feet. Besides looking pale, his friend appeared to be a few pounds thinner, and more than once, Schanke had caught a glimpse of Nick scrunching up his face as though he was in pain. Could be that he was coming down with a case of the flu, although it wasn't even the season for it. Or perhaps it had something to do with that damn puzzle. It was possible that Nick's wish for his sun allergy to disappear had probably caused some kind of backlash to his overall health. Schanke couldn't help but think of Stanley Melville and his gradual wasting away. He prayed that Nick hadn't fallen into the same kind of trap.  
  
    Nick was silent all during the drive. He barely paid attention as his partner rambled on about the bachelor party he planned on throwing for his buddy. When they drove past the Raven, Nick took note of the fact that the building was boarded up and deserted. Apparently, Janette had left the city. She left without saying good-bye, but then again, so had he. Out of habit he reached for the radio and turned it on to CERK. New age music replaced the hypnotic voice he had grown accustomed to hearing. LaCroix had wasted little time getting out of town. Nick felt a minor pang of regret over the loss of his eternal family, but he knew he couldn't have it both ways.  
   
    Feeling a sudden dampness right above his top lip, Nick wiped at it with the back of his hand without thinking. It took a few seconds for him to realize what the dampness meant. By that time, the blood was flowing freely from his nose. He pinched his nostrils closed with one hand while the other searched the glove compartment for the fast food napkins he knew that Schanke stored there. With his nose pinched shut, the blood began to run down the back of his throat, and when he attempted to breathe through his mouth, some of the blood escaped and dribbled down his chin.  
  
    "What the hell?" Schanke had just brought his car to a stop in front of a well-lit diner. He did a double-take as he glanced over at Nick and saw him battling an uncontrollable flow of dark fluid from his nose and mouth. "Nick?"  
  
    Nick swallowed the blood that was swiftly collecting in his mouth, then when he got the chance, he made a one-word reply to his worried partner. "Nosebleed," he quickly uttered as he wiped away what he could with the flimsy paper napkins.  
  
    Schanke took only a second to decide on a course of action. He had already been concerned about his partner's health, so he wasn't about to sit back and do nothing while he bled all over the place. The car was put into gear and the siren turned on as Schanke sped off, headed for the nearest hospital. Against Nick's protest, he was delivered to the emergency room in less than twenty minutes. The bleeding had stopped by then but the blood loss and the frantic car ride had left him feeling a bit weak and lightheaded. Schanke helped him through the sliding emergency doors, yelling out for help and letting it be known that a cop needed assistance. It wasn't until Nick began vomiting up the blood he had swallowed, did the medical staff kick into high gear. Several pairs of hands were able to catch him and prevent him from hitting the floor as he suddenly lost consciousness.   
  
\--------  
  
    When Nick came to, he found himself in surroundings that mimicked his last unscheduled visit to the hospital. His right arm had become a pincushion, and various fluids were slowly being infused into his system. A couple of attached wires led back to a monitor which kept track of his vital signs. The big difference this time was that all of his street clothes were gone and he was dressed in a hospital gown. The blue privacy curtain that had been shielding him from the rest of the room, was suddenly pulled back and a friendly but anxious face appeared to greet him.  
  
    "Hey, you're awake," Schanke announced the obvious as he stood at the foot of the bed. "So, how ya feeling?"  
  
    "I'm fine, Schank," Nick replied with a tired voice.  
  
    "Yeah, right. I suppose after spewing blood up all over the place and passing out, you're bound to feel fine afterwards. You're sick, Nick. Why won't you admit it?"  
  
    Nick sighed wearily and replied with a touch of anger to his voice, "Okay, I feel like shit! Is that what you wanted to hear?"  
  
    "At least it sounds like the truth," Schanke barked back, then immediately felt guilty about raising his voice to his ailing friend. His next words were much calmer. "I tried to call Nat but she had just left on her way to a crime scene. I left a message with dispatch for her, so I guess she'll show up as soon as she gets it."  
  
    "Thanks," Nick replied, also in a softer tone. "Did the uh... has anyone said anything to you? Have you spoken to a doctor?"  
  
    "Yeah, that same one who stitched you up the last time, looked you over. She said that you were badly dehydrated but that you weren't in any kind of danger right now. They're pumping you up with fluids and replacing the blood you lost along with a couple of tubes they took from you in order to do some testing. She said she'd know more once the results of the tests come back." Schanke blew out a exasperated breath, then moved to the side of the bed closer to his friend. "Man, oh man. Nick, you don't think it's that magic wish thing at work here, do you? I mean you go from perfect health to the emergency room twice in one week."  
  
    "No, Schanke, I think it's just a bad coincidence. Fate."  
  
    "Yeah, sure. Fate," said Schanke, not at all convinced. "I regret throwing it away now. Because if that wish you made is somehow causing all this bad luck for you, then there's no way for you to make another wish to fix it."    
  
    "Schanke, please don't worry about it. I'm sure there's nothing seriously wrong. Nat said it's probably just a vitamin deficiency. I haven't exactly been eating well. Either that or I may have picked up a bug last time I was here. You know, all these sick people and their germs that hang out in a hospital."  
  
    "Yeah," Schanke nodded, able to easily see the possibility of his partner picking up something contagious from his last visit to the emergency room. "Yeah, maybe you picked up the mumps or something."  
  
    "I can assure you, it's not the mumps," said Dr. Perez as she appeared from around the curtain. She smiled warmly at her patient and added, "Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Knight. How are you feeling?"  
  
    Nick glanced at his partner first, then answered truthfully, "Not so good."  
  
    Dr. Perez gave Schanke a pat on the arm, "Mr. Schanke, why don't you go get yourself a cup of coffee while I sneak a peak at your friend."  
  
    "Sure. Nick, I'll check on you later."  
  
    "Thanks, Schanke."  
  
    "That was quite a nosebleed, huh?" said the doctor as soon as she was alone with her patient. "It wasn't the first one, was it?"  
  
    "No. This was the third. The other two weren't that bad."  
  
    "Have you been prone to nosebleeds in the past?"  
  
    "No."  
  
    "And you didn't think you should seek medical attention to discover why they were occurring?"  
  
    "I have a doctor's appointment for a complete physical on Monday. I figured I could wait."  
  
    "I see," the doctor responded casually. "Were you aware that you're running a fever?"  
  
    "No."  
  
    "How's your appetite been?"  
  
    Nick shook his head. "Not good. When I do feel like eating a little something, it doesn't always stay down."  
  
    "What about your energy level?"  
  
    "Well, I seem to tire easily no matter how much sleep I get; and normal, physical activity leaves me pretty winded."  
  
    Dr. Perez took a moment to scribble something down on a chart and to review some previous notations. "When you were being undressed, I noticed some bruising on your back. Can you tell me about that?"  
  
    "My fiancee gave me a massage," he answered simply.  
  
    "Did she sort of pound on you or did she just stroke firmly?"  
  
    "Just stroked firmly. She says that I'm probably suffering from a vitamin C deficiency. I was never real big on citrus fruits."  
  
    The doctor put the chart down and turned her attention to the arm that she had stitched up just a week earlier. "What's happened here?" she asked, pointing to the broken stitches and the still visible bruises.  
  
    "Oh, I had a small scuffle with someone."  
  
    "The stitches were broken," the doctor noted. "Odd, however, because it's seemed to have healed better than the section where the stitches are intact. In fact, this last inch at the bottom seems to be slightly infected. That's very strange. Any ideas on that?"  
  
    "Well, when the stitches were broken, my... uh... uncle used an old family remedy to help the cut heal. I guess he just didn't cover the whole wound."  
  
    "Interesting. That's really some family remedy he's got there. But like I said, the rest of this is infected. Have you been taking the antibiotics I prescribed for you?"  
  
    Nick bowed his head guiltily. "I took a few, but I'm not really used to swallowing pills, so--"  
  
    "You stopped taking them," Dr. Perez finished the sentence for him. She sighed disapprovingly. "Well, I'm going to spare you my lecture on the importance of taking all your medication because I hate wasting my breath. But I will say this much: either follow doctor's orders from now on or suffer the consequences."  
  
    "Yes, ma'am."  
  
    "Good. Now, as I said earlier, Mr. Knight, you don't have the mumps. I've gotten your blood tests back and we did find some abnormalities."  
  
    Nick immediately assumed that his vampire blood had left behind some sort of telltale traces. He wondered if Natalie was present, if she'd be able to explain away the abnormal blood cells. He shrugged his shoulders in ignorance and asked, "Abnormal in what way?"  
  
    "Well, you've got a very low platelet count, which explains the easy bruising and bleeding. There's also a deficiency in red blood cells, which is what's causing your anemia, lack of energy. "  
  
    Nick nodded his head as though he fully understood what all that added up to. "So what do I need to do to build everything back up?"  
  
    "I'm afraid I'm not quite sure yet. We really need to do some more testing first."  
  
    "What sort of testing?"  
  
    "We'd like to get a bone marrow sample from you."  
  
    "Bone marrow? What for?"  
  
    "So we can see exactly what's causing the low cell count. Examining the bone marrow and a tiny section of bone, should tell us what we need to know."  
  
    Nick wasn't so sure anymore if his old vampire blood was somehow causing all the problems or if it was possible that as a mortal, there was actually something wrong with him.    
  
    "Mr. Knight, do you know how a bone marrow biopsy is performed?"  
  
    Nick shook his head, then only half listened to her as she spoke of a large needle, local anesthetic and minor discomfort. At some point, he must have agreed to the procedure because within the next half hour, he found himself lying on his side while something worked its way deep within his hip. The discomfort Dr. Perez had spoken of, presented itself, feeling as though something in his leg was being tugged on hard.  
  
\--------  
  
    "Nick?"  
  
    He had been on the verge of falling asleep but became immediately alert at the sound of Natalie's voice. "Hi," he smiled, feeling instantly comforted by her presence.  
  
    "Schanke told me that he brought you in bleeding, and that they wanted to keep you for testing. What's going on exactly? What kind of tests are they doing?"  
  
    "They did some blood tests earlier. Dr. Perez said that my blood count was low, so she ordered a bone marrow biopsy."  
  
    "Bone marrow biopsy?" Natalie tried to hide the apprehension that washed over her at the mention of the procedure. Of course, there was more than one reason why a doctor would want to order such a test, but one in particular stood out above the rest in Nat's mind. "Did she say what she was looking for?"  
  
    "No. Do you think that maybe my physical past is somehow showing up in my present?"  
  
    Natalie understood what he was asking and shrugged her shoulders in response. "I don't know, Nick. I guess I should have run my own set of tests but, I really didn't think it was all that necessary."  
  
    "It's okay," Nick assured her. "But if they come up with some weird findings with the bone marrow, we probably need to be ready with a reasonable explanation."  
  
    "But you really aren't feeling well, are you?" asked Nat. "Schanke said that he practically had to carry you in here."  
  
    "He's exaggerating. You know Schanke."  
  
    "Yeah. I know he doesn't get all flustered and worried without a good cause. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill?"  
  
    "Didn't want you to worry. It's probably nothing serious."  
  
    His smile wasn't very convincing and Natalie could see the unspoken fear in his eyes. All this was new to him; hospitals and being injured and sick. He was trying his best to be brave for her, but it was apparent that he was at least a little bit scared. Natalie kissed his cheek and took hold of his hand. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed. "Probably not getting enough iron. We'll just wait for the test results and deal with whatever comes."  
  
\--------  
  
    Nearly two hours had past when Dr. Perez returned with the results of the bone marrow biopsy. Nick had fallen asleep while Natalie sat vigilantly at his bedside. She had talked Schanke into going back to work. He had wanted to stick around, and only considered leaving with the promise that he would be contacted as soon as they found out anything.  
   
    Natalie stood up as the doctor approached and introduced herself. The two women exchanged pleasantries and handshakes before Dr. Perez turned to Nick and gently shook him awake. Once she was sure he was fully alert, she took on a rather grave demeanor. "I have the results back from the biopsy, Mr. Knight. Would you like for your fiancee to stay and hear the details or would you prefer--"  
  
    "She stays," said Nick, as he grabbed Natalie's hand and held on firmly.  
  
    "I'm sorry," the doctor began, "but I'm afraid I have some bad news to report. Through a thorough examination of your blood cells and bone marrow, it's been determined that you have Acute Myelogenous Leukemia."  
  
    "Oh, my god!" Natalie gasped, throwing her free hand up to cover her mouth and prevent further outbursts from erupting.  
  
    Nick was stupefied, not quite sure what to make of the announcement or of Nat's reaction. He understood the words 'acute' and 'leukemia,' and decided to concentrate on those two for the moment. Medically speaking, acute meant rapid onset, while leukemia translated into cancer of the blood.  
  
    "Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Knight?" the doctor asked.  
  
    Nick glanced at Nat first and saw the tears that were suddenly rimming her eyes. He then looked to Dr. Perez and nodded. "Yes, I understand. You're telling me that I'm dying of cancer."


	9. Code Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick's medical condition goes from bad to worse.

   "Mr. Knight," the doctor spoke sympathetically, "although your condition is serious, it is not an automatic death sentence. A good many people do survive with the proper treatment. I've already contacted an oncologist. He'll be here first thing in the morning to discuss your options with you."  
  
   "I want to go home," Nick blurted out in a sullen tone. "Now."  
  
   "I'm afraid that's not a very good idea at the moment, Mr. Knight," said the doctor, keeping her voice soft but firm with authority. "You're running a fever and you've got a mild infection that we don't want to see worsen. Also, once that anesthetic for your biopsy wears off, you may find it a bit hard to walk, especially with your bad ankle, which I feel has been compromised even more by the cancer. I think it's best if you just stay here the night and meet with the oncologist in the morning."  
  
   "I don't want to meet with anyone. I just want to go home," Nick insisted stubbornly.  
  
   "Mr. Knight, I realize that this is very upsetting news, and you need time to absorb it all, but please, you really need to stay and let us take care of you."  
  
   "Did I have this last week when I came in?" Nick asked, his expression accusatory.  
  
   For the first time, Dr. Perez averted her eyes, feeling somewhat flustered by his imploring gaze. Still, she kept her voice calm and professional. "In all likelihood, yes," she responded candidly. "That would have explained the excessive blood loss you incurred from your stab wound."  
  
   "So if you had done a more thorough examination then, the problem would have been discovered that much sooner, am I right?"  
  
   The doctor forced herself to look him in the eye again. "At the time, a more in-depth examination wasn't deemed necessary because you weren't displaying any other noticeable symptoms. It was a judgment call, Mr. Knight. If you were not feeling well after your release that night, you should have come back in for a follow-up."  
  
   "Nick," Natalie finally found her voice again. "Why don't you just sit tight a minute while I have a word with the doctor."  
  
   Nick gave a minor nod, then watched in silence as Nat and Dr. Perez walked around the curtain and out of earshot. As he strained to hear their softly spoken words just outside the room, he found himself lamenting the loss of his vampire hearing. He thought about getting out of bed and  dressing, but found the simple act of shifting into an upright position to be more of a challenge than he bargained for. The lightheadedness that instantly greeted him, was unexpected, as was the flare of pain in his hip where the biopsy had been performed. Apparently, the anesthetic had worn off. Nick settled back down in his original position on his left side, then concentrated on catching his breath. It was alarming that such a small amount of exertion had left him so winded. He realized then that he wouldn't be going very far if he had to do it under his own power.  
  
   A few minutes passed, and Natalie reappeared at his bedside. She took hold of one of his hands and prepared to speak but Nick beat her to it. "The puzzle, Nat," he spoke excitedly while keeping his voice low. "I've got to get back and start work on solving it. I don't have time for them to keep me here and stick me with needles."  
  
   "Nick, slow down," Natalie urged him in a gentle voice. "Let's just slow it down a minute. First of all, I want you to tell me something. And I want you to be perfectly honest with me." She watched Nick give a slight nod of his head as if giving her permission to ask him anything. "Tell me. How do you feel? Physically speaking, how do you feel right this minute?"  
  
   His first instinct was to lie and tell her that he felt fine. The words almost formed on his lips, but after looking into her eyes and seeing the love shadowed by deep concern, he decided instead to be truthful.   
  
   "Not great. My head hurts a little and I'm feeling pretty weak. But, Nat, I just need to get to the puzzle, then I can make all this go away."  
  
   "How long do you think it would take?"  
  
   "I don't know. The first time took less than a minute, the second time took less than a day. The third time will probably take less than a week."  
  
   "Or it could take longer, right?" Natalie surmised. "There's really no way of telling, is there?"  
  
   "No," Nick confessed. "But that's why I need to go ahead and get started as soon as possible."  
  
   Natalie sighed deeply as she considered all the facts. "Nick, I just saw your chart," she spoke in a voice that did not signify good news, "and uh....I'm afraid it doesn't make for very good reading. I happen to agree with Dr. Perez. I think you need to stay here tonight."  
  
   "Nat--"  
  
   "I know, I know. I can bring the puzzle, and you can work on it here. But, I don't believe we can afford to wait a few days to begin treatment, Nick. The cancer cells in your blood are growing at an alarming rate. I think the sooner you begin chemotherapy, the better."  
  
   "Chemotherapy?" Nick frowned at the thought. He had never studied up on the subject but knew it as one of the lines of defense cancer patients sought out. He didn't know all the details behind it but was aware that it could lead to unpleasant side-effects such as severe nausea and hair loss. "Are you sure, Nat?" he asked for confirmation even though he could see the answer in her eyes.  
  
   "I'm sure. I wouldn't recommend it if I thought...." Her voice trailed off despairingly. "I should have tested your blood at the very start," Nat chastised herself. "I shouldn't have just assumed that it was a vitamin deficiency. And if you had at least told me about the nosebleeds, Nick, I definitely would have taken some action. Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick?"  
  
   Nick shrugged ashamedly. "I guess I just didn't want you to worry."  
  
   "Well, you can forget that, because I promise you I will worry regardless. I love you, Nick, and I worry about whether you're happy or sad or sick or well, and whatever's in-between. So you may as well tell me everything from now on. You got that? I want to know."  
  
   Nick nodded his understanding and agreement to her demand. "All right. I promise."  
  
   "Okay. So, what's going to happen now is they'll take you upstairs and get you settled in a private room. I'll stop by the precinct and talk to Captain Cohen and let her know you'll be taking some time off."  
  
   "I don't want anyone to know about the cancer, Nat."  
  
   "All right. I'll just say that you're suffering from a severe case of anemia, which is not very far from the truth."  
  
   "And you'll bring the puzzle?"  
  
   "Yes. Exactly where would I find it?"  
  
   "At the loft. Bedroom nightstand. And if I'm asleep when you get back, wake me."  
  
   "All right." Natalie gave him a tender, good-bye kiss and promised to return as soon as possible.  
  
   A moment after Natalie's departure, Dr. Perez returned to check on him. "I hear you've decided to stick around."  
  
   "Apparently, I have little choice," Nick grimly replied.  
  
   "I'm sorry, Mr. Knight. I wish circumstances were different. But, I assure you, you'll get the best of care here. We have excellent cancer treatment facilities and some of the best oncologists around."  
  
   Nick nodded slightly, not really impressed with the news. He figured that he wouldn't need their best for long. He hoped to have the puzzle solved soon and wish for himself a long and perfectly healthy life.  
  
\--------  
  
   By the time Natalie returned to the hospital, she found that Nick had indeed been moved to a private room. The nurses on duty had been instructed by Dr. Perez to ignore the visiting hours restrictions and allow Mr. Knight his special guest. He had been resting his eyes when she arrived, but instantly became alert when she entered the room.  
  
   "Nat. Did you get it?"  
  
   Natalie reached into her oversized handbag and took out the puzzle. She placed it in his anxious hands, then pulled up a nearby chair and made herself comfortable. She sat quietly for a moment as she watched him began to twist and turn the sections of the magic cube.  
  
   "It'll be kind of interesting you know, when you solve that and become instantly healthy all of a sudden. Might raise quite a few eyebrows."  
  
   "We can say that the diagnosis was wrong from the start," Nick offered. "That it really was anemia all along."  
  
   "Not likely," Nat replied. "They had to do some pretty extensive testing on your blood and bone marrow to reach their original conclusion."  
  
   "Well then, my recovery will be the act of a miracle. Those have been known to happen, right?"  
  
   "Yes, they have. By the way, I talked to Captain Cohen. She said that she'd been a little concerned about you and that she noticed you weren't exactly up to par. She's actually rather relieved to know you're finally getting the medical attention you need. She also gave me some forms for you to file. I'll take care of them for you."  
  
   "Thanks. Have you spoken to Schanke?"  
  
   "Yeah. I don't think he believed the anemia story. He looked really worried."  
  
   "He thinks my illness has something to do with this puzzle, and he's blaming himself for throwing it in the trash because he thinks he's deprived me of being able to make another wish to set things right again."  
  
   "So you think maybe we should tell him the truth?"  
  
   "Maybe. I'll talk to him when the time is right. You know, you really don't have to stick around, Nat. If you have to get back to work, I'll be fine on my own."  
  
   "No, I'm afraid I won't be much good at work for the rest of the night and Sidney's not expecting me home for hours, so if you don't mind the company...."  
  
   Nick tore his attention away from the puzzle and eyed the woman sitting by his bedside. She looked worried and scared and very far away. Nick slid over to the far side of his bed and patted the empty spot he'd created. "Come here."  
  
   Natalie toed off her shoes and climbed onto the bed to cuddle up next to him. Lying on her side facing him, she rested her head against his shoulder and draped an arm over his abdomen. Nick kissed the top of her head and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then suggested that they discuss the plans for their forthcoming wedding and honeymoon. Natalie smiled for the first time that night, encouraged by Nick's positive attitude. For the next few hours, they managed to push aside the depressing thoughts of traumatic illness and concentrate on their upcoming future together.  
  
\--------  
  
   It was just after eight in the morning when the oncologist showed up. Nick had worked on the puzzle nearly non-stop, with very little progress, while he and Nat chatted the night away. They had been interrupted a couple of times when a nurse came to check Nick's vital signs.  
  
   "Good morning!" a tall, middle-aged, black man in a white coat greeted them cheerfully as he breezed into the room carrying Nick's medical chart. "What do we have here?" he questioned, seeing two people crammed into the single bed. "A two for one sale?" Embarrassed, Natalie started to get up, but the doctor waved her back down. "Relax. Stay, please. The more the merrier." He walked over to Nick's side of the bed and offered his hand to shake. "Mr. Knight, I'm Dr. Michael Graham."  
  
   "Doctor, nice to meet you." Nick shook the man's hand then gestured towards Nat. "This is Natalie Lambert, my--"  
  
   "The future Mrs. Knight. Yes, I've been informed." He exchanged a courteous greeting with Nat, then turned his attention to Nick. The doctor pulled out a pamphlet from his coat pocket and presented it to his new patient. "This will help to answer a few questions you may have about your disease and the planned course of treatment. But what I would like to do is go over a few things quickly, if I may. I don't mean to insult anyone's intelligence." The doctor gave a brief acknowledgment to Natalie. "I understand, Miss Lambert that you have a medical background, but because I also work with a lot of kids, I find it easier to keep all explanations as simple as possible.   
  
   "Mr. Knight, you have been diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia -- AML for short. Simply put it's when good blood goes bad, very quickly. Your body has ceased its creation of healthy blood cells and is now producing sickly, malformed blood cells. These sickly cells are ill-equipped to handle all the work expected of them. They're unable to carry enough oxygen through your body and assist with the normal function of digestion and producing antibodies to help ward off infection and a number of other things. So, what we need to do is kill off all these sickly, cancerous cells and encourage the regrowth of healthy cells.  
  
   "And just how are we going to do that? I'm glad you asked. We're going to give you some cancer-killing medicine, every twelve hours for the next seven to ten days. During that time, we'll monitor you closely and watch out for any serious adverse reactions. Many  patients experience non-life threatening side effects such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and hair loss. Some of the side effects can usually be countered with other medication. Unfortunately, chemotherapy is not an exact science. It depends on the physical condition of the patient and what your body is willing to tolerate. Because of your age and previous good physical condition, I feel we can safely start you out with the maximum doses.  
  
   "Now, while killing off the cancerous blood cells, we'll also be destroying any healthy ones that are trying to grow. Kind of like casualties of war. That means that your body will be left weakened and virtually defenseless, open to attack by infection, so it will be important to guard against germs." Dr. Graham looked pointedly at Natalie. "That would mean, no intimate contact and sharing of beds or spending the night for that matter. We'll want to keep his environment as sterile as possible.." He returned his gaze to Nick as he continued with his explanation of things to come. "After about seven days of treatment, we'll do another bone marrow biopsy to see how successful the chemo has been and we'll work out our next step depending on the results at that time. Any questions?"  
  
   "What's the absolute longest I can wait before beginning treatment?" asked Nick in a quiet tone.  
  
   Dr. Graham didn't even blink as he answered the questioned honestly. "Don't even think about waiting, Mr. Knight. Trust me, you don't want to put this off another day. This particular disease does not play around. However, there are a few things we need to take care of first. Is it safe to assume that you would like to father children in the future?"  
  
   Nick gave an adoring glance to Natalie and smiled. "Definitely."  
  
   "Then we should take precautions now. One side-effect of chemotherapy is sterility. It doesn't affect everyone, but you never know. Therefore, it would be wise to store away some of your sperm for future use." Dr. Graham didn't give his patient much time to dwell on that problem before moving on to something else. "Secondly, in order to save wear and tear on your veins, we'd like to implant an assess catheter called a Port-a-cath. It's an easier and safer method of administering medication and fluids, and also for withdrawing blood for sampling. It will be inserted right around the base of your collarbone. It'll require an operation that can be performed under a local anesthetic. When's the last time you had anything to eat or drink?"  
  
   "Haven't eaten since yesterday. I had a glass of water a few hours ago. Around three-thirty, I think."  
  
   "Okay, then I'll see if I can schedule you for surgery around noon. Just make sure you don't eat or drink anything else for the next few hours. And one more thing. I need to ask if there are any other family members who can speak on your behalf should you become unable to make decisions for yourself."  
  
   "You mean, as in...pull the plug?"  
  
   "Well, although we don't anticipate things going that badly at this point in time, some patients have been known to have severe reactions to the drugs we'll be using. Should the unexpected occur, and we require permission to proceed in one direction or another, you should have someone who knows your intentions and have the legal right to enforce them."  
  
   "Nat here is my fiancee. She's all the family I have now."  
  
   "But legally speaking, does she have the right to sign papers and make decisions on your behalf? If not, then you two should probably figure out some contingency plans." The doctor clapped his hands together to signify that he had completed the orientation process.  
  
   "Okay, I know that was a lot to take in all at once, but I'm going to give you a chance to sift through it and discuss things while I go make some arrangements. I'll be back a little later and I will answer any questions you happen to have then." The doctor gave a courteous smile to them both before making his exit.  
  
   Nick stared numbly at the colorful brochure in his right hand. The doctor had already imparted more information than he cared to know. He blew out a deep breath, then turned his gaze to the woman by his side. Natalie forced a smile past her lips and said, "He seems like a very capable doctor. Seems to really know his stuff."  
  
   "Are you sure that all this is necessary, Nat?" Nick asked, hoping for a way out of his impending chemotherapy treatment.  
  
   "If you're asking me if you're likely to drop dead tomorrow if you don't begin treatment today, then I'd say the answer is no. But if you're asking if I think you'll last the week without some form of intervention... all I can say is, I don't want to take the risk.  
  
   Nick nodded his acceptance of both her opinion and his fate. "All right. Then maybe we should go ahead and get married."  
  
   "Married? What? You mean today?"  
  
   "Yeah. I think it'll be easier introducing you as my wife rather than my fiancee. Less syllables," Nick explained with a tiny grin that quickly faded. "Plus, what he said about someone making decisions on my behalf...."  
  
   "Nick, I--" Nat started to object.  
  
   "I trust your judgment, Nat. Whatever you think is the right course of action to take, will be fine with me."  
  
   "Nick, remember what happened with my brother Richard?" Nat somberly reminded him. "Remember how they wanted to pull the plug on him and I wasn't able to let him go?"  
  
   "It's okay, Nat. Don't worry about it. One way or the other," said Nick as he held up first, the pamphlet in his right hand, then the puzzle in his left, "I'll make it through this. I promise you that."  
  
\--------  
  
   Nick was six days into his chemotherapy. Blood samples had been taken at various intervals, and his doctor seemed encouraged by the more recent results. The cancer cells were dying off. Unfortunately, along with the diseased cells, his healthy blood cells were also destroyed in the process, leaving him as his doctor had predicted, in an extremely weaken and vulnerable state. Blood transfusions had been necessary to sustain him and precautions had been taken to keep his surroundings sterile. In his present state, he'd never survive even the simple effects of a common cold. Because of that fact, the puzzle he had so desperately wanted to solve, had been banned from his room. Because of its unique design with all its hidden nooks and crannies, there appeared to be no effective way to sterilize it without causing possible damage. The fact that it had spent some of its existence in various trash receptacles, made it a likely candidate for harboring harmful bacteria, and therefore, something that a man with an impaired immune system should not be handling.  
  
   Actually, it was just as well, because Nick spent most of his time sleeping. His waking hours were filled with doctors examining him and asking the same stupid questions over and over. Then it was the nurses' turn, bathing him, rolling him over to change the sheets, and making adjustments to the intravenous line that provided him either with drugs or nourishment. They had long since stopped their attempts at trying to get him to eat. He had never really built up a tolerance for solid foods, and the chemo hadn't helped matters. Nausea and vomiting were the first unpleasant side effects he had encountered. Although he was given medication to help alleviate those symptoms, he remained fearful of consuming anything other than water.  
  
   The only thing he looked forward to during his waking hours were the visits from Nat. The fact that they were married still left him in awe. Natalie had pulled a few strings with some acquaintances at City Hall and secured a marriage license in record time. The ceremony had been brief, performed in Nick's hospital room just hours after the implant surgery of his Port-a-cath. A couple of nurses and an orderly were their only guests. Of course, they still planned to have a big, lavish wedding later after his recovery. That was of course, _if_ he recovered. Scratch that. _When_ he recovered. He had promised Nat that he was going to beat this disease with or without supernatural help from a magic cube.  
  
   He had to keep his thoughts positive, even though he felt as helpless as a baby. He was reminded of the time he'd let some mad scientist experiment on him. The doctor had convinced him that he had to have his blood drained out of his body in order to cure him of his vampirism. Like a fool, he fell for it. Then he lay there on the table, weak and helpless while the doctor strapped him down and confessed his desire to perform some new, more intriguing experiments. The man probably would have dissected him alive just to see what made him tick, had it not been for his vampire family coming to his rescue. How many times had they saved him from a fate worse than death? Especially LaCroix. He always seemed to know instinctively when his child was in danger and always arrived just in the nick of time to prevent his demise.  
  
   "Nicholas."  
  
   Nick stirred in his sleep at the sound of his name. When he heard it pronounced a second time, he forced open his eyes and turned his head towards the direction of the voice. He focused on the shadow seated in the chair at his bedside. As the shadow leaned forward, a soft light was switched on and the shadow came into full view. "LaCroix?"  
  
   "I must say, Nicholas, mortality does not suit you well at all."  
  
   "What are you doing here?"  
  
   "There's nothing wrong with visiting a sick friend, is there?"  
  
   "How did you know?"  
  
   "I knew from the very beginning. The very first time I tasted your blood, I knew of your illness. Of course, back then, it had not yet been given a name. I tried to warn you, Nicholas, that becoming mortal would not be in your best interest, but you never listen."  
  
   "You're saying that, if you hadn't brought me across when you did, that I would have--"  
  
   "Died a slow and torturous death from an unknown illness. Ironic, when you stop to think about it. A mortal with diseased blood being rescued from death by becoming a vampire. Then, we have a vampire becoming a mortal and dying from the same previously diseased blood. It's almost comical in a way."  
  
   "I'm not going to die," stated Nick confidently. "All I have to do is solve the puzzle."  
  
   "Ah, yes. The famed magic puzzle box. It works extremely well, doesn't it? You thought you wished me out of your life, and yet here I am again. Of course, you only wished me not to interfere with your life. You didn't say I couldn't interfere with your death." LaCroix rose from the chair and moved to lean over Nick's prone body. "You will die from this disease, Nicholas," he coldly informed him. "But I could rescue you once again. I could restore your strength and vitality. We needn't wait for you to puke your guts out. We can do it right now. You have only to say the word, mon petite. You were meant to live forever, Nicholas, or not at all."  
  
   Nick considered his options and everything his former master had told him. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wasn't ready to die. Without giving a verbal reply, he slowly turned his head in order to better expose his neck. LaCroix smiled knowingly, then lowered his mouth to the sickly, pale throat and sank his fangs in deeply.  
  
   Nick gasped at the strange pressure that seemed to reach down past his collarbone.  
  
   "It's okay, Nick. I didn't mean to startle you. It's only me."  
  
   It took a moment for Nick to wake fully and comprehend what was happening. "Nat?" He had to look closely at her eyes. It was the only feature he could see of her face because of the surgical mask and cap she was forced to wear during her visits with him. The warm touch of her hands had also been lost to him because of the surgical gloves she wore. Still, he appreciated her presence and the sound of her voice. She always seemed upbeat, telling him how good things were progressing, although her eyes seemed to tell a different story. They looked tired, worried and a little lost, but if Nat was anything but positive about his outcome, she never allowed it to show.  
  
   "Yeah, it's me. You kind of got your tubing a little tangled. I was adjusting it for you. Are you feeling okay?"  
  
   "Dream," Nick replied drowsily. "LaCroix."  
  
   "You were dreaming about LaCroix?"  
  
   "He knew, Nat."  
  
   "Knew what?"  
  
   "About the leukemia. He tasted it in my blood. He knew all along."  
  
   "Then why didn't he say something?"  
  
   "He probably figured I wouldn't have believed him."  
  
   Nat nodded in agreement. She wouldn't have believed it coming from LaCroix either. "So what was the dream about?"  
  
   "He doesn't think I'll survive this. He wanted to bring me back across."  
  
   "Would you consider that as an option?" asked Nat. "I mean, should things get out of hand?"  
  
   "I don't know. In the dream, I gave in to him. I honestly don't want to be a vampire again, Nat. But at the same time, I don't want to die."  
  
   "Well, your latest blood test shows that the chemo is working. I know it probably doesn't seem like you're getting better, but you are. You just have to hang in there a little longer."  
  
   Deciding to change the subject, Nick murmured softly, "I wish I could make love to you right now. Or at least kiss you," he added with a longing smile. "I'd even settle for seeing you without all that surgical crap on. Are you still as beautiful as ever under all that?"  
  
   "I think I may have aged a couple of years this past week. But other than that."  
  
   Nat was tempted to remove her surgical mask and give him the hottest, deepest kiss she could muster, but common sense ruled out and she merely settled for stroking his hair with her gloved hand. After running her fingers through his blond curls twice, she frowned with dismay as she noticed several locks of his hair clinging to her hand as she withdrew it. She wasn't sure if she should call his attention to the hair loss, but in an instant, the hair no longer mattered. When a grimace of pain suddenly appeared on Nick's face and he let out a strangled groan, Natalie frantically sought out the cause.  
  
   "Nick, what is it? Nick?"  
  
   The alarm on the heart monitor announced the fact that something was terribly wrong. Natalie pressed the nurse call button while yelling out for help at the same time. Within seconds, the room was abuzz with activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushed to the scene of a "code blue." A frantic Natalie was quickly ushered out of the room so the hospital staff could concentrate on saving her husband's life.  
  



	10. Third Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terrifying events force Nick to make a hard choice for his third wish.

   Nick was having another very realistic dream. This one, however, did not include LaCroix. In this dream he was floating above his hospital bed, looking down to see himself still lying on the bed, connected to various monitors and IV lines. Several doctors and nurses were frantically hovering over him applying CPR and shocking him with paddles in order to get his heart started again. He looked about for Nat and saw her through the partially closed doors, peering in tearfully. He started to move towards her when a sudden, blinding, bright light appeared at the window and filled the room with a bluish glow. A figure of slight build, with long, flowing hair, appeared and floated into the room.  
  
   "Nicola," a French-accented, female voice called out to him.  
  
   Nick squinted his eyes in order to make out the person's features as she drew closer. He gasped in disbelief as she finally came into full view. "Fleur?"  
  
   "My dear brother, Nicola., it has been too long," she spoke, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek.  
  
   Nick grasped her hand with both of his and graced it with a kiss before resting it against his heart. "Fleur, I never imagined I'd see you again."  
  
   "We thought it would never be possible as well."  
  
   "We?" he asked for further explanation.  
  
   "Mother, Father, your nephew. We've missed you so."  
  
   "You're all...in heaven?"  
  
   "We're all in a good place. And now it seems that some day, you will join us."  
  
   "Someday? Not now?"  
  
   "It is not yet time for you, Nicola. But I saw the window open and I had to take the opportunity to see you again. You're still needed here," she explained with a nod towards Natalie. "But one day, the time will come to leave this life. We will be waiting for you." Fleur kissed both his cheeks before quickly withdrawing and floating backwards towards the window, taking the bright light with her. Nick looked down at his body on the bed, saw the doctor as he applied the paddles to his chest again, and felt the tremendous jolt of electricity coursing through his torso. After that, there was blackness.  
  
\--------  
  
   The bright light was back again. Nick tried to squeeze his eyes shut or at least turn away from it, but something prevented him from doing either. After a few seconds, however, the beam of light disappeared and he was able to blink and move his head freely.  
  
   "Welcome back, Mr. Knight," a cheerful, male voice greeted him.  
  
   Nick blinked some more until his vision cleared and revealed the presence of Dr. Graham, wearing a surgical mask and cap, standing next to his bed, tucking a penlight into the breast pocket of his lab coat.  
  
   "How do you feel?" the doctor asked.  
  
   Physically, he felt okay. No better or worse than he had the last time the doctor had examined him. Emotionally, he felt a little strange, perhaps due to the odd dream that he could just barely recall. "Okay, I guess," he replied with uncertainty.  
  
   "You gave us quite a scare. Do you remember what happened?" When Nick shook his head slightly, the doctor nodded. "I'm not surprised. Apparently, you had a bad reaction to the cytarabine we've been giving you for your cancer. You went into full cardiac arrest. Came close to losing you, but the night shift staff was able to get your heart going again."  
  
   The dream, Nick realized, had not been a dream after all. It had been a near death experience. He'd nearly died from the same stuff that was suppose to cure him.  
  
   "Why?" he questioned. "Why would I have a bad reaction all of a sudden? You've been pumping that stuff into me all week."  
  
   "I know. And you were handling it quite well, too. But, unfortunately, your body reached a point where it decided that enough was enough. It needs a break from the aggressive drug therapy, a chance to rest and restore what's been lost. Normally, we'd do that anyway after a full session. I had wanted to give you another day or two of treatment, but your body is calling the shots here, so it's best that we back off for a while. Besides, we tested your marrow and it's actually looking pretty good."  
  
   "Are you saying that the cancer is all gone?"  
  
   "No, that's not what I'm saying. I wish it were that simple, but this was just the first session of chemotherapy. We managed to kill off a large percentage of leukemic cells, but I'm afraid we didn't get them all. Like I said earlier, we need to give your body time to rest, but unfortunately, that will give the remaining cancer cells an opportunity to multiply. But we're not going to give them a chance to spread out as badly as they had before. A second chemo session will be needed to -- hopefully -- send you into remission. Then we'll want to do a post-remission session, just to make sure none of the little buggers try to sneak back in."  
  
   "How long between sessions?"  
  
   "That depends on you and your body's own recovery rate. We'd like to give you as much time as possible to start building up your defenses again, but at the same time, we don't want to wait too long and allow new leukemia cells to run rampant. We'll test you on a regular basis, and monitor your progress closely. When the time is right, we'll make another go of it."  
  
   "When can I go home?"  
  
   "We'd like to keep you here another couple of days at least, make sure that your heart is good and strong, transfuse some more healthy blood into your system, and reintroduce you to solid foods again. And if all continues to look good, we'll send you home to finish recuperating. I'll arrange for a home health care nurse to drop by about three times a week to check on you, take blood samples, dispense medication and make sure your Port-a-cath is kept clean."  
  
   "I don't think a nurse will be necessary," said Nick. "Natalie knows how to do all that stuff. Is she here somewhere?"  
  
   "I convinced her to go get something to eat, and get some sleep. I've been told she's been at the hospital practically 24-7. She takes catnaps in the waiting room, and gets most of her meals from the snack machine. Apparently, the only reason she goes home at all is to feed the cat, take a shower and change. Which brings me to a personal question, Mr. Knight. I know you said that you had no other relatives, but I was wondering why I never see or hear of any close friends or even co-workers coming to visit or inquire about you. Could it be that you haven't told anyone else about your illness?"  
  
   When Nick looked away almost shamefully, the doctor had the answer he sought. "Are you afraid that your friends will treat you differently? Perhaps pity you, or even worse, fear you?"  
  
   "I guess I just rather Nat and I handle this ourselves."  
  
   "That's not a good idea, Mr. Knight. You have a catastrophic disease. No one should face something like this alone. And as you, at least, have your wife to turn to for comfort, who does she have? If your friends are truly your friends, they will give you both the emotional support you need to get through this. On the other hand, if you'd rather put your faith in strangers, there are support groups out there that may be beneficial. There's a group for the relatives of cancer patients and there's one for the patients themselves. You'll be able to talk to others who have experienced what you're going through, or are facing what you've been through. I've given the numbers for both groups to your wife, though I'm not convinced she'll make use of them on her own. But I highly recommend that you both allow others who care, to help you through this crisis."  
  
   Nick's first thought was that he didn't need outside help. His condition was only temporary. Once he got home and solved the puzzle, all would be fine. Then he thought about Natalie standing outside his door with tear-filled eyes, watching him cling to life by a thread. There had been no one there to comfort her and no one for her to turn to if he had been allowed to follow his sister into the light.  
  
   Dr. Graham could clearly see that his patient was carefully considering his advice. That was a step in the right direction. "There's one other thing I should make you aware of, Mr. Knight. We had to put a surgical cap on your head because your hair has begun to fall out. You've still got quite a bit left at present, but it won't be very long before it'll all be gone. Many patients don't bother to wait. They simply go ahead and have their heads shaved and get it over with. Of course, in time, it will grow back."  
  
   Nick let out a soft, depressed sigh, then gazed up thoughtfully at his doctor. "It must be hard for you."  
  
   "Beg your pardon?"  
  
   "Telling patients how badly their lives are going to suck before they die."  
  
   "They don't all die, Mr. Knight. And, yes, it is hard. But somebody's gotta do it." Dr. Graham patted his patient's forearm as a parting gesture. "You take it easy now. I'll check back with you later."  
  
   "Doctor?" Nick called out softly just as the physician had reached the door.  
  
   The man stopped in his tracks and turned about to face his patient. "Yes, Mr. Knight? Was there something else?"  
  
   "Could you...would you make a phone call for me?"  
  
   "Who would you like for me to call?"  
  
   "My part... my friend, Don Schanke. Maybe you could explain my condition to him and ask if he'd check on Natalie for me."  
  
   "I'd be happy to do that for you, Mr. Knight," said Dr. Graham approvingly. He remained long enough to get the phone numbers of both the precinct and Schanke's home, and to verify what information he should relay.  
  
\--------  
  
   Nick drifted back to sleep soon after the doctor left. When he awoke several hours later, he found a visitor in his room. He had grown accustomed to seeing Nat at his bedside, but the figure seated in the chair across from him was much too large to be Nat. It was a man, that much was obvious. But with his head and face covered by a surgical cap and mask, and one large, gloved hand covering his eyes, it was impossible to identify him. Finally, the figure dragged his hand away from his eyes, apparently wiping away the moisture that had collected in them, then let loose a weary sigh of "Man, oh man."  
  
   "Schanke?" Nick called out softly to his partner, drawing his immediate attention.  
  
   Schanke moved forward in his chair a bit and reached out a hand to rest on Nick's forearm. "Hey, partner. How ya feeling?"  
  
   "Much better now," said Nick, managing a weak smile.  
  
   "Good. That's good. I uh...had a nice long talk with your doctor. Then I went and had an even longer talk with Natalie."  
  
   "How is she?"  
  
   "Worried about you, of course. But, she's home getting some rest now. I insisted. Told her I'd stay and hold down the fort. Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. Wish I could have been here for it."  
  
   Nick detected the hint of disappointment in his partner's voice and attempted to apologize for excluding him from the ceremony. "Schanke, I--"  
  
   "No it's okay. You don't have to say anything. Natalie explained everything to me. It would have been nice if you guys had let me in on stuff a little sooner, but I think I understand. You figured you could solve that puzzle real quick and make everything right again."  
  
   "She told you about that too?"  
  
   "Yeah. I don't think she intended to, but I happened to see it sitting on the mantelpiece, and pretty much figured things out. Man, oh man, Nick. I should have never taken that thing out of Melville's house. He tossed it into the trash for a reason. If I had just left it there, none of this would have ever happened. You never would have made a wish and ended up with cancer."  
  
   "Schanke. Trust me, it's not your fault. I had leukemia way before I ever laid eyes on that puzzle."  
  
   "Really?"  
  
   "Yeah. By the time the symptoms finally became noticeable.... Well, you know what they say about early detection."  
  
   Schanke nodded as a clearer picture of the situation dawned. "Yeah, you're right. By the time you see the symptoms, it's almost too late to do anything about it. I mean--"  
  
   "It's not too late for me, Schanke," Nick assured his friend. "Even without the puzzle, I'm going to be fine. I just thought it would be good for Nat to have someone to talk to, considering I spend about twenty hours a day sleeping. And she needs someone who'll see to it that she takes care of herself and not worry so much about me."  
  
   "Yeah, she did look pretty despondent. Looked like she had missed a few meals and a few days sleep. But I let her know that she didn't have to shoulder this all alone. Both me and Myra will be there for her. And you too, partner. Anything you need, just let me know."  
  
   "Thanks, Schanke. I really appreciate that."  
  
   "Sure, no problem." Schanke leaned back in his chair and abruptly changed subjects in order to lighten the mood. "Oh, man, you'll never guess who they got me partnered up with now. Temporarily, of course. Just till you're back on your feet again."  
  
   "Who?"  
  
   "Tracy Vetter."  
  
   "Vetter?" Nick turned the name over in his mind, wondering why it sounded so familiar.  
  
   "The daughter of Police Commissioner Vetter. The talk around the precinct is that her dad is the only reason she made detective. But, actually, she's not all that bad. As a matter of fact, the other night, she helped me bring in Dollard, the guy who bombed the courthouse in Edmonton. Which reminds me, now I gotta extricate him back to Edmonton next week."  
  
   "Vetter going with you?"  
  
   "I wish. I mean, she's easier on the eye and she pretty much idolizes me, but Captain Cohen's going instead. You know, it's a high profile case and there'll be a lot of news coverage going on and--"  
  
   "The captain doesn't trust you not to put your foot in your mouth?"  
  
   "Something like that. Hey, did I ever tell you about the first time I had to escort a prisoner out of town?"  
  
   Nick was sure Schanke had probably told him his entire life at one point or another, but he dared not stop him from his storytelling. It was rather comforting to hear his voice full of excitement as he began to reminisce about his earlier exploits. For Nick, it was refreshing letting something other than his illness take center stage. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed that. Schanke was good at helping him to forget his troubles, if only briefly, and he did his best not to fall asleep on his friend. He managed to stay awake for another twenty minutes more before drifting off to the sound of Schanke chuckling over one of his own bad jokes.  
  
\--------  
  
   A week later found Nick recuperating at home. Instead of going back to Natalie's apartment, he opted for the quieter neighborhood and the roominess his warehouse loft provided. He was feeling somewhat stronger, having received several transfusions and medication to help rebuild his red blood cells. He was able to stay awake for hours at a time instead of mere minutes, and able to make it to the bathroom under his own power. During his first couple of days, he was confined to the upstairs bedroom, but as time passed, he finally gained enough strength to wander downstairs, where he took up residence on the living room couch, working to solve the puzzle.  
  
   By day six, he had made pretty decent progress, having placed about three-quarters of the dragon in its proper position. A setback, however, came in the form of an unexpected side-effect After waking up from a nap, he noticed that he was having problems with his balance and coordination. Walking became tricky as his lack of balance threatened to tip him over if he didn't hold on to something for support. The simple act of fastening the buttons of his pajama top became difficult as well, because his eye and hand coordination was seriously out of sync. His visiting nurse put a call in to his doctor, who in turn told him not to worry. The condition was not all that uncommon and should fade away on its own within a couple of weeks. No medication was prescribed to counteract the unpleasant side-effect, but if it became too debilitating, he was told that additional treatment would be considered.  
  
   This latest development made Nick feel as though he wasn't meant to solve the puzzle. It was much harder to manipulate the different sections of the cube. He had to wonder if some unknown force was doing its best to keep him from making his third wish. Or maybe it wouldn't matter anyway. Perhaps, like Stanley Melville, he had been doomed from the moment he first touched the magic box. Still, it remained his best shot for getting well and living a long and fruitful life. He was determined to see it through to the end.  
  
   The ringing of the telephone jerked Nick out of his bout of self-pity. Natalie, who had been curled up in a chair across from him, reading a medical journal, jumped up to answer the phone. Nick listened with mild curiosity as Nat spoke into the receiver, responding to a stranger's request to speak to Dr. Lambert. Only a handful of people knew her as Mrs. Knight, but most people knew that if she wasn't at her own apartment, then she could be found at Nick's loft. As her calm expression twisted slowly into one of shock, Nick took greater interest. He watched as her wide eyes shifted in his direction then squeezed shut in order to stave off the flow of tears. Her voice broke slightly as she agreed to leave immediately.  
  
   "Nat? What's wrong?" Nick asked when she hung up the phone.  
  
   "Umm...that was Captain Reese."  
  
   "Who?"  
  
   "Captain Joe Reese. He's the one filling in for Captain Cohen while she and Schanke...." Natalie covered her mouth, unable to bring herself to finish the statement.  
  
   "Nat? What is it?"  
  
   "There's been a plane crash at the airport."  
  
   "Schanke's plane?" Nick asked fearfully, already assuming the worse.  
  
   "It's the flight he and Cohen were scheduled to be on, but nothing's been confirmed yet," Nat passed along the dreaded news with tears forming in her eyes. "Captain Reese wants me to go down and help with cataloging all the...the bodies. It's a pretty big job and they don't have enough qualified people. I'm afraid I'll be gone for quite a while. Do you think you'll be okay on your own, or do I need to call someone to come over?"  
  
   "No, I'll be fine, Nat. You go on and do what you have to. Maybe they missed the flight," Nick offered with a sliver of hope.  
  
   "Yeah, maybe," Natalie replied absently as she slipped her bare feet back into the sneakers she had kicked off earlier. She was already dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. For the job ahead of her, it seemed the most appropriate attire. She gathered up her purse and keys from the sofa table, then looked to Nick. "Listen, if you need me for anything, Nick, I'll have my pager with me."  
  
   "Please, don't worry about me, Nat. Just...be careful."  
  
   An uneasy smile dashed across Natalie's face as she placed a farewell kiss atop her husband's hairless scalp. "I'll call you as soon as I find out something."  
  
   Once she had left, Nick turned on the TV and saw that the plane crash was the topic of a live news bulletin. The report stated that there appeared to be no survivors, and according to witnesses, the plane had exploded in mid-air shortly after takeoff, fueling the speculation of a bomb on board.  
  
   Nick turned the sound down and glanced at the telephone. He thought about Myra and Jenny, wondering if they had been informed about Schanke yet. Then his thoughts drifted to Captain Cohen. He knew that she had a husband and kids, but suddenly realized that in the year he'd known her, he had never asked their names. He'd seen their pictures on her desk, but never felt comfortable chatting with his boss on a personal level. And now she was gone, along with his best friend.  
  
   Nick glared at the puzzle that had become almost a part of his right hand for the past few days. If only he had been quicker in solving it, he could have made an all encompassing wish to protect not only himself, but everyone close in his life. Maybe he could have even prevented the tragedy from ever happening. He wondered if it were possible to wish the event away, then realized that if he did that, he would have to sacrifice his own well-being. Perhaps the best choice was to do whatever it took to get well, then offer his assistance to the families of Schanke and Cohen. With less enthusiasm, but just as much determination, Nick returned to solving the puzzle.  
  
\--------  
  
   Several hours passed before Natalie called to check on Nick and to let him know that although the bodies of their associates had not yet been officially identified, their badges and other personal belongings had been recovered. She didn't say it in so many words, but Nick could read between the lines. The bodies from the plane were probably so badly damaged by the explosion and ensuing fireball, that identification by sight alone was not possible. Nick could hear the sorrow and pain in his wife's voice as she strained to keep from breaking down in tears.  
  
   "I wish I could do something to help," Nick sighed, rising up from the couch to stretch his legs. "I feel so useless here," he added as he headed clumsily over to the window. "Do you know if Myra's been told yet?"  
  
   "I just stopped in at the precinct here to talk with Captain Reese. He's already sent someone over to inform her. I'll probably stop by there myself when I leave here. I'm sitting at Schanke's desk right now going through stuff. He's got a couple of pictures of you and him together and that Partners of the Month plaque in his drawer. I'm really going to miss him, Nick."  
  
   "I know. Me too," said Nick, looking out sadly at the city skyline. "How much longer will you--"  
  
   Nick's question was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise off in the distance. He watched in astonishment as a large mushroom of fire lit up the night sky barely two blocks from his home.  
  
   "Nick, what the hell was that?" Natalie asked worriedly.  
  
   "An explosion. Nat, I think the 25th precinct was just bombed."  
  
   "Oh, my god!"  
  
   "Nat, tell Reese about it. Whoever's doing this, may have other targets lined up."  
  
   "Okay, here he comes now. Hold on."  
  
   Natalie didn't bother to put him on hold as she turned to speak to Captain Reese. The man had just stepped out of his office and was approaching her, carrying a flat, gift box. Before Nat could give the captain the bad news, he removed the lid from the box and offered her the contents.  
  
   "Just received this box of chocolates as a gift from the Commissioner," the heavyset, dark-skinned man stated with a touch of pride. "But I've got no business trying to eat it all myself."  
  
   Nick overheard Nat refusing the offer just as the soft melody of a music box began to play. He wondered where the music was coming from and planned to ask as soon as Natalie came back on the line. Unfortunately, he never got the chance. The music and all other sounds were cut off abruptly by a sudden and deafening blast. Nick automatically dropped the receiver and put a hand to his ear in a vain attempt to protect his hearing and dampen the noise that was still reverberating against his right eardrum. At the same time, he caught sight of another fireball lighting up the night sky. It was further away in the direction of the 27th precinct. It took a few seconds for the realization of what had just occurred to sink in. He bent down to pick up the phone, and placed it against his opposite ear. Hesitantly, he called out Nat's name, but the only thing that greeted him was a dial tone. Shakily, he dialed the number to the police precinct and felt temporary relief when he heard ringing on the other end. However, his joy died instantly when a recorded voice answered and informed him that the number he was calling was presently out of service.  
  
   "No! This can't be happening. Can't be." He refused to believe that Natalie had just perished in an explosion. There had to be some other explanation. He tried dialing the direct line to his desk and to the captain's office, but each attempt garnered the same results. Perhaps the explosion had simply been close enough to the building to damage the phone lines. He thought about paging her, but realized it wasn't necessary. She'd call him back as soon as she could get to a working phone. For that reason, he decided simply to wait. He'd give her ten minutes. Surely she'd find another phone by then.  
  
   Nick remained in front of the window, looking out at the eerie glow of burning buildings off in the distance with news helicopters circling the area. The time ticked by slowly. Ten minutes turned into twenty, then to thirty, and the phone in his hand still had not rung. Finally, he tore his eyes away from the events going on outside his window to the big screen TV in his living room. He was immediately drawn closer to the television as he recognized the flame-engulfed building that was being shown in the most recent news bulletin. The area that seemed to display the most damage was on the left side of the building towards the rear. That had been the location of his captain's office. Schanke's desk and his own had been located barely ten feet away. Nick continued to stare at the screen as tears streamed down his cheeks. It was obvious that Natalie had been at ground zero when the bomb exploded. The only phone call he'd be getting, would be someone asking him to come down and identify her body.  
  
   Overwhelmed by both grief and physical weakness, Nick's legs could no longer support his weight. He dropped to his knees, managing to get his right hand out and brace himself momentarily against the coffee table before collapsing onto the floor. Lying on his side, he covered his face with his hands and pulled his knees up towards his chest. At first the sounds coming from his throat sounded like a mewling cat with the hiccups, but it grew steadily into a loud, mournful wail. He had never felt such devastating heartache before. He couldn't even recall the last time he actually cried, but now it seemed as though he was making up for centuries of unshed tears. It may have been minutes or hours, but eventually, the well of tears dried up and pure exhaustion forced him into a troubled sleep.  
  
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   An incessant buzzing sound roused Nick from his slumber. He turned his head towards the window and noted the early morning daylight pouring through the opened blinds. The events of the previous night temporarily eluded him. He was a bit confused to find himself sleeping on the floor and wondered why Natalie hadn't waken him and helped him to bed. Then he remembered. Natalie was dead. She had been blown up in an explosion just as his partner Schanke had been. The buzzer sounded again, and Nick finally realized what it meant. Someone had come to notify him, perhaps take him down to the morgue to identify the body. Then again, maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Maybe Natalie was still among the living, possibly badly injured and hospitalized, but alive just the same. Nick held on to that slim thread of hope as he struggled to get to his feet, fighting the stiffness in his limbs, his lack of balance and the nausea threatening to overtake him.  
  
   Whoever was ringing the buzzer, must have known for certain that he was home and realized that it would probably take time for him to answer the door. Nick slowly made it over to the intercom and flipped the switch that allowed him to speak to his visitor.  
  
   "Who's there?"  
  
   "Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you, Det. Knight," an unfamiliar woman's voice spoke up. "I'm Tracy Vetter. I worked with your partner, Don Schanke for the past couple of weeks. Can I come in? We really need to talk."  
  
   Nick pushed the button to unlock the door and allow her entry into the elevator. He stood by the elevator door and waited for it to open. When it did, a tall, slender blonde stepped out hesitantly. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, conveying the fact that she had experienced a very trying time. Still she managed a faint smile as she stepped up to him and offered her hand to shake.  
  
   "Hi. I've heard a lot about you. It's good to finally meet you. I just wish the circumstances were different."  
  
   "Yeah. Schanke told me about you too."  
  
   Her head lowered in despair at the thought of their lost comrade. She sighed deeply, then asked. "You know about the bomb on the plane, right?"  
  
   "I know."  
  
   "I thought so. I met your wife down at the scene and she said that she'd spoken to you when she first got the call. Anyway, I wanted to help out with the investigation, but Captain Reese said that the FBI was handling things and besides, he thought that I was too upset about Schanke to function properly, so he ordered me to go home and take some time off. I was a few blocks away when the bomb went off at the 25th. I was just about to head in that direction when the bomb back at the 27th went off."  
  
   "Natalie?" Nick whispered the one word question.  
  
   The blonde detective standing a foot away from him, understood perfectly what he was asking. She lowered her head briefly as she reached a hand into her shoulder bag and pulled out a plastic evidence bag. Holding the bag out to him, she responded, "Her body was recovered about an hour ago. I thought you might want to have these back."  
  
   Timidly, Nick took the bag from her with a trembling hand, then carefully studied the contents. It contained Nat's wedding rings which were slightly charred, but still very recognizable. The tears returned instantly, this time accompanied by the need to vomit. He wanted to run to the bathroom, but only succeeded in dropping to his knees with one hand  supporting his weight, before his last meal came spewing out. It hadn't been much. The last thing he'd eaten was diced chicken with rice and half a wheat roll. That had been over twelve hours ago. As soon as he was done emptying his stomach, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder as a warm, damp cloth began to wipe at his chin. Nick looked up to see the blonde stooping down beside him, her eyes overly moist and a frown of deep concern creasing her face.  
  
   "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I'm not use to... I haven't had to give bad news before."  
  
   Nick took the cloth from her and finished the job she'd started. "It's okay," he sniffled. "I already knew. I was on the phone with her when it happened."  
  
   "Oh, my god! You heard it! Did you hear anything unusual?" Tracy asked, the detective in her coming to the forefront. "Something that might help us locate the bomber?"  
  
   "No, not really. Reese had received a box of chocolates from Commissioner Vetter. He offered a piece to Nat. There was the sound of a music box playing, and then...."  
  
   "My father thinks chocolate is unhealthy," said Tracy. "I can't imagine him ever sending some to anyone."  
  
   "Maybe he didn't," Nick uttered, seeing the possible connection between the candy and the bomb. When he attempted to stand, his visitor automatically offered him assistance, allowing him to put as much of his weight on her as he needed.  
  
   "Why don't you sit down over here?" she suggested with a nod towards the couch.  
  
    "Bathroom," Nick pointed in a different direction. "I have to use the bathroom."  
  
   "Oh, okay, sure."  
  
   Tracy escorted him as far as the bathroom entrance, then stood idly by as he entered on his own and closed the door. After a moment, she could hear water running, but underneath that noise, barely audible, she heard sobbing. The sound broke her heart and she nearly began bawling herself. She felt so sorry for him. He had just lost both his partner and his wife, and as far as she could tell, he had no one else in his life. Schanke had mentioned something about an uncle and an old girlfriend Nick once had, but both had recently left town.  
  
   The word at the precinct had been that Nick had taken a leave of absence due to exhaustion and overwork. But it was obvious that there was something more to it than that. Tracy had seen a few pictures of the old Nick Knight, a very handsome, well-built man with a head full of thick, blonde curls. So she had been more than a little surprised at the baldheaded, frail-looking man who greeted her when the elevator door opened. The hair loss brought to mind chemotherapy and cancer. Apparently, he hadn't wanted anyone to know the truth. Probably didn't want anyone to pity him.  
  
   Now, that he had been left alone with no family or close friends, Tracy wondered how he was going to manage on his own, or if he'd even want to. She stepped away from the bathroom door and casually looked about the living room, wondering where Nick kept his gun. It seemed very likely that with nothing much to look forward to, he might end up sucking on the barrel. She realized then that she couldn't leave him alone. He might not like the idea of her butting into his life, but she knew she couldn't simply walk away and leave him to deal with matters by himself. After all, he could barely make it to the bathroom on his own.  
  
   Tracy took a seat on the couch to await her host's return. She figured that he might need several minutes alone in there. She only hoped that there were no razor blades or mass quantities of pills for him to consume. She glanced at her watch and agreed to give him no more than five minutes to come out, otherwise, she'd go in after him even if it meant shooting the lock off the door. At least, if he did try to hurt himself, she'd know better what to do with him. She could have him hospitalized where he'd have round the clock medical and psychological attention. If he were a child, she would have the option of calling Children Services and have him placed in a foster home. Unfortunately, there were no foster homes for sick and depressed adults.  
  
   Trying to plan for the future of someone she'd just met was beginning to give her a headache. To keep her mind off the worse case scenario, Tracy picked up the interesting looking cube she saw sitting on the coffee table and began to closely examine it. She could make out what looked like a jade dragon, only his head and tail were in the wrong place. She began to fiddle with it, trying to make it so that the head and tail ended up in their proper place. She became so entranced by the puzzle, that ten minutes later, she didn't even notice when Nick emerged from the bathroom. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he yelled at her in a menacing voice, "Put that down!"  
  
   Tracy leapt to her feet, nearly dropping the item in question. "Sorry," she hastily apologized as she set the cube back onto the table. "I didn't mean to...ah...you know. I was just...." Tracy's voice trailed off when she noted an indecipherable expression on Nick's face as he stared unblinkingly at the cube. "I'm really sorry," said Tracy, assuming that the reason Nick looked so upset was probably because the cube had belonged to his wife and it had been his intentions to preserve it just the way Natalie had left it.  
  
   "Here, why don't you come sit down," Tracy suggested as she went to him and gently took hold of his arm. "You look a little tired."  
  
   Nick didn't bother to argue with her. He merely accepted her help to reach the couch, then once he was settled, she picked up the cube again and handed it to him, somehow sensing that he wanted to hold on to it. Nick studied the puzzle carefully, shocked to see that instead of causing him a setback, Tracy's innocent interference had miraculously brought him within one move away from solving the puzzle. His first thought was to quickly make that last move and wish Natalie back to life, but he paused a moment to consider the consequences of such a wish. Since Natalie had been killed in an explosion, it was quite possible that her body had been badly damaged. To wish her back to life if her body was severely burned or disfigured and lying on a slab at the morgue, could lead to a highly excruciating reawakening. It would be best if he wished that she had never gone down to the precinct when she did, or better yet, perhaps he could wish that Schanke's plane had never been bombed.  
  
   Nick was so lost in his decision-making that he failed to hear what his company was saying to him. He'd heard her rattling on about something as she went to stand in front of the window he'd stood in front of earlier while waiting for Nat to call. Tracy's voice finally pierced through to his consciousness and he heard the tail end of a sentence. "--blow up the entire city."  
  
   "What?" Nick asked for a repeat. "What did you just say?"  
  
   Tracy turned away from the window to look at him. "Oh, I was just talking about the bomber. What I overheard a couple of FBI agents saying to my dad."  
  
   "Which was?"  
  
   "That there's evidence to indicate that the creep who set off those bombs has stolen enough explosives to blow up the entire city. It's very likely that he's planted bombs all over town. They've already recovered some from the other police precincts in the city. Man, this guy is really sick. It's like he just wants to see how much destruction he can do in a given amount of time." Tracy folded her arms across her chest and shook her head in disgust. "You know what I wish? I wish that the rat bastard had one of his own bombs blow up on him way before he ever had the chance to plant any of those other bombs."  
  
   "That's a good wish, Tracy," Nick murmured softly as he twisted the last section of the puzzle into position. As the magic box opened in his hands, he closed his eyes and whispered, "I wish the same thing." He waited for several moments before daring to open his eyes again. When he did, he found that the young blonde by the window was no where to be found. Glancing about the room, he saw that everything else seemed unchanged. He placed the cube onto the coffee table, then reached for the phone and placed a call to the precinct. When the male voice on the other end identified himself as Captain Reese and asked how he could be of assistance, Nick gasped with relief. There seemed to be no stress in the man's voice, no indication that any disasters had befallen his workplace.  
  
   Nick hung up quickly, not trusting himself to make a comprehensible response. His wish had come true. The bombs had never been placed. That meant that everyone was still alive. At least he hoped that was what it meant. He called out for Natalie but got no response. When he tried calling out louder, and still received no reply, he tried not to panic. There could be a dozen reasons why she wasn't answering. She was probably still asleep in the bedroom upstairs or perhaps in the bathroom blow-drying her hair or something.  
  
   Nick rose from the sofa to go find out which was the case. Coming down the stairs had been a hard enough task to manage; going up seemed nearly insurmountable. He'd missed taking some medication, and it had cost him physically. He really wasn't feeling so great, but somehow he gathered up the strength needed to ascend the stairs. By the time he reached the top, he was out of breath and nearly ready to faint. The bedroom door was already opened, and as Nick leaned heavily against the door frame, attempting to catch his breath, he could see that the bed was unmade and empty. His eyes shifted to the darkened bathroom which was apparently unoccupied.  
  
   "Nat?" he called out, just in case she was soaking in the tub which was out of his view. The panic was returning. He couldn't help but wonder if his wish had somehow inadvertently altered his life with Natalie. If the bomber had been blown up as he had wished, was it possible that Nat had been somewhere in the vicinity at the time? He didn't want to think the worse, but the way things had been going lately, he had no reason to expect better. He slid to a sitting position on the floor with his back against the wall, then lifted his eyes heavenwards.  
  
   "Please, God," he began to pray. "I know you don't owe me any favors but... please, Nat's a good person. She deserves to live. And so does Schanke and Cohen. I don't know if the wishing thing worked right, but please don't go punishing them because of me. I'm the one who should pay for my sins, not them. Please, take me instead."  
  
   He knew it wasn't much of a prayer, but it was all he could think of. He closed his eyes wearily, trying to think what course of action to take next. The sound of the elevator in motion, snapped him alert and gave him cause to hold his breath. The elevator door opened but from his vantage point, Nick was unable to see who had entered. He heard footsteps going into the kitchen, then a highly familiar and truly welcomed voice called out.  
  
   "Nick? Are you up yet? Breakfast will be ready soon."  
  
   He was too overwhelmed with relief to speak although he did remember to breathe. The tears that flowed this time, were joyful as he listened to Natalie grumbling about the high cost of coffee and the fact that it was probably cheaper to go to Columbia and pick the beans herself. After a few minutes of puttering around in the kitchen, Natalie finally ascended the staircase, intending to check on her husband. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Nick sitting on the floor in the hallway, with tears streaming down his face.  
  
   Nat approached hesitantly, fearing something was drastically wrong. Stooping down by his side, she looked him over carefully for any physical signs of damage. "Nick, what's wrong?" she asked when she couldn't determine the answer simply by sight.  
  
   He shook his head and managed to cough out the words, "Bad dream."  
  
   "Oh, sweetheart." Natalie wrapped her arms about him, pulled his head to her bosom and rocked him gently. "It's okay," she cooed to him, then placed a kiss atop his head. "Everything's okay."  
  
   "I love you so much, Nat," Nick sobbed. "Please, don't ever leave me again."  
  
   "I won't. I'm sorry. I just made a quick run to the store. I thought I'd be back before you woke up. I'm sorry, Nick. It won't happen again, I promise."  
  
   She had no idea what he was talking about. However, Nick remembered every detail of the earlier events, the way history could have been. To Natalie, of course, none of those things had ever happened. Eventually, he'd have to tell her about them and explain that he'd already used his third wish. But for now, it was enough to simply melt into her embrace, feel her soft touches against his skin and hear her declare her love for him.


	11. Good News, Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Demarcus meets the man who saved his life. In the present, Nick gets good news from Nat and discouraging news from his doctor.

   "The one who rescued Demarcus from death, was a two-hundred-year-old vampire named Yoshi. He was of Japanese descent, a teacher during his time as a mortal. His studies and travels throughout strange lands, brought him in contact with the magic box, and like Demarcus, during a moment of crisis, he had made a wish not to die. At the time, he did not fully understand the workings of the curious puzzle. But over the centuries, he was able to track it from place to place and study the lives of those it touched. He learned much of how and when it performed its miracles. He knew that the puzzle itself picked who it wanted to give itself to. Not everyone could solve it. Once the puzzle had chosen, it gave that person one full cycle of the moon in which to unravel its secrets three times and make requests. The first time, the puzzle is solved very quickly, almost on its own. The second time, takes a bit longer -- perhaps a full day -- and the third, can take many days and nights.  
  
   "Hearing all this, Demarcus realized that he still had one wish coming to him and he had already decided that he would use it to help free his enslaved people. Still, he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. After all, he had wished freedom for himself and looked what happened. Yoshi explained to Demarcus about his new life, how powerful he was now and how the two of them working together could rescue the slaves without the use of magic. He offered to help Demarcus free his people if he agreed to use his last wish as Yoshi asked. You see, although Yoshi treasured certain aspects of his immortality, he missed some of the joys he once experienced in life. He wished to be able to walk in the light of day again, and he wanted to be able to eat real food instead of existing only on the blood of others." Shalimar paused in her storytelling and looked at her audience thoughtfully. "Would you wish for such a thing if it were possible, or are you satisfied the way you are?"  
  
   "What does it matter?" Nicholas coldly retorted. "I accept what I've become. Wishing won't make it go away. Besides, it's only a story. There is no such magic box."  
  
   "I admit that I have not seen it for myself, but that does not mean it does not exist."  
  
   "Then it's too bad you don't have it. You could wish for me to spare your life."  
  
   "You said that as long as my story entertained you, I would not be harmed. Do you find the tale boring? Would you like me to tell another? Or perhaps a song would please you more."  
  
   The vampire was beginning to get hungry, but he decided that he could wait a little while longer. He hoped she wasn't that far from the end. "Finish the story," he growled impatiently. "And don't take all night."  
  
   Shalimar nodded politely and continued. "As I have stated, Yoshi wanted Demarcus to make a wish on his behalf so that he could become a bit more...human. From experience, he knew that he would not be allowed to make any more wishes of his own again. He would have to depend on someone else making a wish for him. Yet in all his years of following the trail of the magic box, this was the first time he was in a position to take full advantage of someone else's opportunity. But first, he had to fulfill his side of the bargain. Quickly, he explained to Demarcus how to make use of his new powers. The fledgling vampire now had the strength of five men, the speed of the fastest Arabian horses and the ability to see in the dark. Other  new gifts would  make themselves known and increase with time, but for now, Demarcus had what he needed to rescue his people."  
  
\--------  
Present  
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   "Nick? Nick!"  
  
   The sound of his name being called along with a gentle shake of his shoulder, was enough to bring Nick back to reality and focus on the person sitting on the couch next to him. "I'm sorry, Nat. What were you saying?"  
  
   "Doesn't look like it's going to work for me," said Nat as she held the puzzle box out to him. He took it from her and glared at the cube as he turned it about casually in his hands.  
  
   "I figured as much," Nick sighed mildly. "Didn't hurt to try though."  
  
   "Are you positive all that wasn't just a dream? A bad dream, mind you, but still--"  
  
   "If only it had been. But I can remember every detail with crystal clarity. You've met Tracy Vetter, haven't you?"  
  
   "Yeah. Schanke introduced her to me. She's very pretty."  
  
   "And very tall and very blonde, and makes you think, what if Barbie dolls became police detectives."  
  
   Natalie snickered lightly. "Yeah, well, that would be a good description for Tracy. So I guess, it really did happen then."  
  
   "Explains why the puzzle is all scrambled up again. Explains how I can describe someone I've never really met. At least to her, it would seem that we've never met."  
  
   "But it's still hard to believe that you were able to actually change history with just a few spoken words."  
  
   "I guess that's why they call it magic."  
  
   "So what now? Apparently, it's not going to let me solve it. Should we ask Schanke to try when he gets back in town?"  
  
   "I don't know. Schanke has been more than just a tad leery of this thing from the start. I wouldn't want to ask him to do anything he'd be uncomfortable with. Besides, I think he'd probably be too afraid to even touch it, afraid of making things worse. And my guess is that he probably tried to solve it when he first took possession of it, but never got anywhere. It chose me, Nat. I don't believe that anyone close to me will be allowed to solve it anyway."  
  
   "What about Tracy? You said that she was able to get somewhere with it. Maybe it'll work for her. Then we could get her to wish for a cure for cancer and be done with it."  
  
   "Maybe. But we probably shouldn't depend on it." Nick placed the cube onto the coffee table, then draped an arm about Natalie's shoulders and drew her into his embrace. Her head nestled against his cheek, and he kissed her hair as her warmth comforted him and he reveled in the simple fact that she was alive and well in his arms.  
  
   "So it's a good thing that we went ahead with the chemotherapy after all."  
  
   "I can't say I'm looking forward to more treatments though."  
  
   "I know it was pretty unpleasant for you, but unfortunately, it's the best modern medicine has to offer right now."  
  
   "Yeah, I know," Nick sighed despondently. After a moment of silent contemplation, he spoke softly into Natalie's hair. "What if it doesn't work?"  
  
   He felt Nat stiffen in his arms at the disturbing question. "We can't think that way, Nick. We have to think positive."  
  
   "Yes, but...well....it's been eight hundred years, Nat. What if that's all the time I've been allotted? Maybe what LaCroix said to me in a dream is true. Perhaps I was meant to live forever, or not at all. Either I live for all eternity as a vampire or I die now as a mortal."  
  
   Nat pulled away from his embrace and turned to face him eye to eye. "What are you saying, Nick? You want to go find LaCroix or Janette and have one of them turn you back into a vampire?"  
  
   "No, that's not what I want," Nick responded emphatically. "I never want to go back to that existence again."  
  
   "Then you're saying you're ready to die?"  
  
   "No, I'm not ready to die, Nat. On the contrary; I'm ready to start living. But I'm not so sure if that's what fate has in store for me. I've read the articles in those medical journals you've been studying. I've seen the survival rate for what I have, and the odds aren't all that encouraging. Already, the chemotherapy that's suppose to help cure me, instead, caused me to go into cardiac arrest. And the research states that I'm more likely to die from infection due to a weakened immune system caused by the drugs, than from the disease itself. So, I guess what I'm saying is...with or without the chemo, I don't believe I have much time left. And if that's true, then I'd rather not spend whatever time I have remaining, drugged to the gills, sleeping twenty hours a day, too weak to even hold you in my arms."  
  
   "Oh, I see." A combination of fear and resentment instantly blossomed in Natalie's mind, driving her to stand up and put some distance between herself and her husband. It had sounded very much as though Nick was throwing in the towel, unwilling to give himself every opportunity necessary to reclaim his good health. Natalie folded her arms across her chest and began a slow pace about the room as she sought to put her thoughts into words.  
  
   "You know what I think, Nick?" Natalie asked, her voice tight with tension. "I think you're afraid. No! Let me rephrase that. I think you're a coward! You're use to being physically superior, of swatting off bullet wounds and never having a need for a medicine cabinet. Headaches and fevers and upset stomachs are new to you. Frightening even. You don't know how to cope. You talk about how much you want to be mortal, but you're not willing to take the good with the bad. Now, I will admit that mortality does have its drawbacks, with the probability of illness and the inevitability of death being at the top of the list. But, hey, that's life!" her voice went up a couple of notches in volume as she turned away from Nick and faced the window. "Most people cling to it tenaciously. They take whatever steps necessary to survive, to extend their lives for as long as they possibly can. Even if it takes months of medication, radiation, transfusions, hospitalization, and puking their guts out until there's nearly nothing else left except the desire to see the sun rise one more time. They don't just give up when the going gets a little--"  
  
   Nat abruptly brought an end to her ranting when she turned back around and caught the dismal expression on Nick's face as he hung his head down in bitter remorse. Natalie quickly crossed the room and dropped to her knees in front of him. She grasped his face with both hands and gently forced him to look up at her. Seeing that his eyes were brimming with unshed tears, Nat modified the tone of her voice to soothe and comfort rather than accuse and condemn.  
  
   "I'm sorry. I didn't mean.... Nick, I know you don't like being an invalid. No one does. But, the chemotherapy is our best bet for getting you well. I know it's unpleasant, and I know you're having a hard time with the side-effects, but we've got to give it a fair chance. Don't worry about the survival rates listed in some medical journal. You've got just as much a chance to make it as anyone else. But you have to want it, Nick. You have to work at it. You've got to continue the treatments. We've got to work to get you into remission because you've got a lot to look forward to. We've still got that big, beautiful wedding to plan, and that endless honeymoon to go on, and those kids you've got to pass on those good looks to. None of that will happen if you allow yourself to give up too soon. Am I getting through to that thick, beautifully, hairless skull of yours?"  
  
   He heard her words, but his own fears still led the way in his mind. "You're right, Nat. I _am_ a coward. I'm not used to enduring physical pain. I don't like it. I hate this feeling of utter helplessness, of having to depend so heavily on others. And I hate seeing what all this is doing to you. I've given you nothing but grief. You deserve so much better."  
  
   "You're the one I want, Nick. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. Weren't you paying attention?"  
  
   Nick managed a small smile at that "Yes. I'm sorry, Nat. I must have forgotten for a moment, but I promise, I won't forget again."  
  
   "Good." They started to share a kiss, but Nat caught herself, realizing the threat of passing on harmful bacteria that Nick had little defense against. Instead, she averted her lips from his mouth and brushed his cheek lightly with hers then swooped her arms around him for a comforting hug.  
  
   Nick groaned mildly against her hair. "I feel like a little kid who's been given his own candy store but suddenly became deathly allergic to sweets."  
  
   "Well, if you'll be a good little boy and take all your medicine, then maybe we can get rid of that allergy so you can have all the candy you want."  
  
   "Sounds like a plan."  
  
\--------  
  
   Although modern medicine seemed to be his only recourse, Nick couldn't help but give a little more thought to the magic puzzle. He hadn't really planned on asking, but was thankful just the same when Schanke volunteered to try to solve the puzzle for him. When he had no luck with it, he in turn asked his new temporary partner, Tracy Vetter. He didn't bother to explain anything, just watched her like a hawk as she struggled to make heads or tails of the interesting cube for over an hour. Schanke was all for going through the whole precinct in order to find someone the puzzle would respond to, but Nick told him not to bother. It was obviously a waste of time. The magic cube would pick who it wanted to give its wishes to, only when it was good and ready. Nick thought about throwing the puzzle away, but decided to hold on to it a bit longer, knowing that somehow, when the time was right, the mystical cube would easily find its way into the hands of its next master.  
  
   With no magical intervening to count on,  Nick had to deal with his illness on a normal, one-day-at-a-time basis. Since he didn't like being cooped up in his bedroom, and couldn't get as comfortable as he would have liked to on the couch, arrangements were made to have a fully adjustable, hospital bed delivered, and set up in the living room, near the window. The remote controls to the stereo, TV, and electronic window shutters, were kept close at hand for the times when Nick was awake and alert enough to even care what was going on outside his window or on the TV screen. Some days were better than others. One day, the nausea and vomiting would make him wish he were dead, and the next, he could eat and drink with no ill effects. A sudden high fever was cause for alarm, and triggered a two day return to the hospital, a  barrage of tests, a new type of antibiotic and one blood transfusion. Nick had never been clear on all the details of the new complication. He only went by the expressions on his wife's face. Once the worrying lines creasing her brow had faded, he knew that he was out of danger. He was soon back home, starting his recuperation all over again.  
  
   As the side-effects of the chemotherapy lessened, and his strength began to return, Nick sought out the self-help group that his doctor had recommended. He met with other patients, some much younger, and a few that looked older than himself. He listened to their stories of how much pain and suffering they'd had to endure and how much more they expected to endure before reaching their goal of a complete cure. It was hard keeping a positive attitude at first, but seeing the faith and grim determination that the other members of the group possessed, made Nick feel guilty even considering a magical solution to his problem. If they could do it, then he could at least give it a shot.  
  
   In the weeks that followed, Nick was given added encouragement to get well when Natalie announced that she was pregnant. The welcoming news definitely had a positive effect on Nick's mental -- if not physical -- well-being. The thought of impending fatherhood boosted his spirits and made the uncertainty surrounding his health easier to handle. He felt that God or fate would not be so cruel as to offer him such a precious gift, then not allow him to survive long enough to enjoy it. Not that he didn't already have enough to live for, but with a baby on the way, Nick was more determined than ever to beat his disease.  
  
\--------  
  
   Following his most recent set of tests, Nick sat with Natalie in the doctor's office, across from Dr. Graham, anticipating some positive news. The doctor had greeted them pleasantly upon seeing them again and gave no outward indication that there was anything to worry about.  
  
   "I hear you've got a little one on the way," said Dr. Graham cheerfully. "Congratulations."  
  
   "Thank you," said Nat, unable to control her delighted blush.  
  
   "I take it, conception occurred before the chemo, right?"  
  
   "Yes, it did," Nat answered the doctor's question, knowing that he was concerned about possible birth defects that the chemotherapy might cause.  
  
   "Is what I have hereditary?" Nick asked. "Will our child end up...."  
  
   "I wouldn't worry about it," the doctor told him. "There's no evidence to indicate that AML is passed on genetically."  
  
   Nick nodded, then glanced at Nat who mouthed the words, 'I told you so.' He smiled and gently squeezed her hand. "It doesn't hurt to hear it twice."  
  
   "So, Mr. Knight, how have you been feeling lately?"  
  
   "Pretty good, actually. Not exactly a hundred percent back to normal, but stronger and a lot less discomfort than before."  
  
   "Good. Glad to hear it. That means the side-effects are wearing off." The doctor opened up the file folder that lay in front of him on his desk. "Got the results back on your latest set of tests," he said, his gaze darting from the file to Natalie, then finally resting on Nick. "I'm afraid I don't have great news for you. There's no sign of remission. Of course, I'm not completely surprised by that, considering that we had to cut your treatment short. What does bother me, however, is the fact that the cancer appears to be spreading. We found a few errant cells in your spinal fluid."  
  
   "I take it, that's not good," said Nick, effectively keeping a reign on his desire to panic.  
  
   "No, not a good thing, really," Dr. Graham replied with a calm and steady voice which belied the seriousness of his words. Years of dishing out bad news had not made it any easier for the doctor, but he did what he could to soften the blow. "But it's not exactly the end of the world, either," he added optimistically. "You know, Mr. Knight, some people with this disease, come in and do remarkably well with their very first session. Then you have others, such as yourself, who have to work a lot harder and a lot longer before achieving positive results. You understand what I'm saying?"  
  
   Nick nodded. 'Positive attitude, positive attitude.' He told himself to keep thinking those words. "So I go back for more chemo, right?"  
  
   "That's the general idea. However, I'm also thinking that you might benefit greatly from a bone marrow transplant, that is, if we can locate a suitable donor. So I think it's a good idea if you'd ask any relatives or friends or even casual acquaintances if they'd be willing to come in and be tested on your behalf."  
  
   "I can make some phone calls," said Natalie. "I'm sure we can get some of the guys from the precinct to try out."  
  
   'That'll be great," the doctor smiled. "Now, about the chemo, Mr. Knight, I've been discussing your case with a colleague of mine in Atlanta. He's been treating some patients with a new, experimental drug. From what he's told me, I believe that perhaps you might make a good candidate for the trial studies he's conducting."  
  
   "What are you saying?" Natalie spoke up, her voice etched with deep concern. "Are you saying you want to use Nick as a guinea pig?"  
  
   "Well, in essence, yes. He would be an essential part of testing the benefits of the new drug. It has been shown to work quite effectively in lab animals and there has been success with human subjects as well. More data, of course, is needed before it's released for wide scale use. But don't get me wrong, Mrs. Knight. I'm not saying that the drugs already out there for use couldn't work for your husband. However, we've already established that he's a little overly sensitive to the cytarabine, which led to the problems with his heart stopping. But we were giving him the maximum dosage at the time, and it's quite possible that he would respond better at a reduced dosage over a longer period of time."  
  
   "Or not," Nick chimed in. "You don't really think that I should be given the cytarabine again, do you?"  
  
   The doctor was slightly hesitant on expressing his true thoughts. Finally, he shook his head and said, "To be frankly honest, no. You didn't do very well the first time around and my gut instincts are telling me, that you probably won't do any better the second time. I believe we should consider going another route. As I said, there are other drugs that might be more suitable. The only reason I brought up the trial study is because you do fit the criteria of age, relative weight and previous good health. I can give you more information and you can decide for yourself if you'd like to participate."  
  
   Nick had already heard what the doctor was so cleverly not saying. It would appear that without a bone marrow transplant, his best bet for survival was a newly developed drug with a meager track record. He would have to become a test subject in order to determine the viability of a new cancer treatment which may or may not save his life. Even if the drug failed him, Nick realized that his limited contribution would help in the ongoing fight against cancer. That reason alone was enough to get him to agree. Still, he wouldn't do it without Natalie's consent, so he looked to her for an answer.    
  
   "What do you think, Nat?"  
  
   "Well, I'd like to find out more details, of course," Nat addressed her response to the doctor. She wasn't happy at all to discover that their options seemed to be narrowing. Then she looked to Nick and saw a certain something in his eyes that she couldn't quite make out. But one thing was evident; she could tell that Nick had already decided to go with the experimental treatment. It wouldn't be the first time he'd tried grasping at straws. Natalie prayed that it wouldn't be the last.  
  
\--------  
  
   The week long search for a bone marrow donor produced hundreds of volunteers willing to offer their services, but unfortunately no one even came close to being a suitable match. That left the experimental treatment in Atlanta. Nick had been given the e-mail addresses of two other patients who had undergone the same treatment and was encouraged to write and ask them questions concerning their experiences with the new drug. He decided against contacting the strangers, however, because he felt it was enough to know that they had been helped by the drug; he didn't need to hear what horrors it may have put them through first. Knowing that there were two success stories out there, he couldn't help but wonder how many others had not been so lucky. He still wanted to believe that there was a miracle waiting for him in Atlanta, but as the time drew nearer for his trip down south, Nick began to lose confidence in his ability to find a cure. He finally came to the conclusion that he was mortal. And mortals die everyday. He realized that his day might be coming very soon and that he needed to be prepared.  
  
   Discussions about wills and funeral arrangements didn't go over very well with Natalie, who seemed to feel that negative talk such as that was detrimental to one's health. Nick pretended to agree with her, but secretly made a few phone calls and handled things neatly without his wife's knowledge. He considered getting a video camera to tape himself as a gift to his child when he or she was old enough to start asking what their father was like. But after taking a good look at himself in the mirror, Nick decided against that idea. He wouldn't want to frighten the kid. He barely recognized himself anymore. He bore little resemblance to the man who showed up in Toronto a few years ago and named himself Nick Knight. He wondered how Natalie could bare to even look at him anymore, much less feed, bathe and dress him during the rougher periods of his illness. 'Through sickness and in health,' he reminded himself. He had to let her know how much he truly loved and treasured her. He decided to do so with paper and pen. It seemed to take forever to find all the right words to express both his love and gratitude. Once he finished writing the letter, he sealed it with a kiss, then went on to pen several others.  
  
\--------  
  
   When the time came, Schanke drove his friends to the airport. Nick managed to walk through the main doors under his own power, but didn't complain when Natalie grabbed one of the airport's complimentary wheelchairs and insisted he conserve his energy. While Nat went to the ticket counter to sign them in, Schanke wheeled Nick over to a relatively quiet seating area where they could say their good-byes. Nick pulled down the surgical mask covering his face so he could speak unencumbered.  
  
   "Should you be taking that off?" Schanke asked with concern. "All these people and the out of town germs floating around."  
  
   "Just for a moment," said Nick. "I'll be all right. I just wanted to thank you for all your help these past few months."  
  
   "Ahh, it's no big deal. I just wish you'd hurry up and get well. I need my partner back. Nothing against Tracy, mind you, but you and me, Nick. You have to admit, we were pretty good together."  
  
   "Yeah, we were," Nick agreed with a genuine smile. "I miss that."  
  
   "Yeah, me too. But we'll get it back. You'll see."  
  
   Nick reached into his shirt pocket and pulled  out a set of car keys. He looked at them fondly for a moment, then dangled them in front of Schanke's face. "Take care of the Caddy for me, will you?"  
  
   "Hey, it'll be my honor," said Schanke as he accepted the keys with a huge grin on his face. He remembered complaining to Nick numerous times about using the classic Cadillac convertible as a police car, but he had to admit to himself that he'd missed riding around in it.  
  
   "There's a card in the glove compartment with the name of the mechanic who works on it for me. Anytime you need anything done to it, just give him a call. There won't be any charge. Everything's been prearranged."  
  
   "What do you think I'm gonna do? Wreck it my first time out? Hey, I know I did that before, but it wasn't my fault. The car had been tampered with."  
  
   "I know, I know. It's just in case."  
  
   "Okay. Well, I'll be extra careful with it."  
  
   "And, Schanke, in case I don't come back--"  
  
   "In case you what?" Schanke observed his friend carefully and noted the way Nick quickly averted his eyes. "Nick, you're coming back." Schanke said it more as a command than a suggestion. "Look, I know you're scared. Hell, I'm scared for you. But this new treatment is going to work. You are going to get well and you are coming back to the force and we'll ride around in your Caddy and catch bad guys together again. You got that?"  
  
   Nick returned his gaze to his partner and forced himself to smile. "I got it, Schanke. But just in case...would you look after Nat and the baby for me?"  
  
   "Nick--"  
  
   "Schanke, please," Nick stopped his friend from interrupting. "Financially, they won't have anything to worry about. I have quite a lot saved up. But emotionally, they'll need someone in their lives who can be there for them. You and Myra are the only ones I can think of. Maybe... maybe I will pull through this okay, but if I don't, I'll feel better knowing my family won't be all alone."  
  
   "You know you didn't even have to ask, don't you?" said Schanke in a serious tone. "I'm your partner, remember?"  
  
   Nick nodded. "I remember. Thanks, Schanke. For everything."  
  
   "You wanna thank me, just get yourself well, Nick. That's all the thanks I'll need. Now put that back on," Schanke pointed to the protective mask, which Nick obediently moved back into its proper position covering his mouth and nose.  
  
   Natalie arrived seconds later with the news that everything was set and that they needed to head to the departure gate. She gave Schanke a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as she promised to call as soon as they reached their destination. When he pulled away from Nat, Schanke turned his attention once again to Nick. He really would have liked to give his pal a hug too, but the man in the wheelchair looked so fragile, Schanke was afraid he might damage him with an embrace. He settled, instead,  for patting his friend gently on the shoulder.  
  
   "So...I'll see you when you get back, Nick."  
  
   "Yeah, Schanke. I'll see you when I get back."  
  
   Schanke could see it clearly in those overly shiny, blue eyes that Nick didn't believe his own words. It was obvious that the man truly expected that this meeting would be their last.  
  
   "Don't worry, partner, I'll look after everything for you. I promise."  
  
   "Thanks, Schanke. You're a good friend."  
  
   Schanke passively stood and watched Natalie wheel her husband down the busy terminal. Once they were completely out of sight, he looked down at the car keys he still held in his hand, and finally realized that their owner had no plans for ever retrieving them. Schanke wiped the palm of his other hand across his eyes before the tears he felt welling up, had a chance to escape. If he allowed himself to cry it would be like admitting that Nick was right. But he wasn't, couldn't be. He would be back behind the wheel of his Caddy in no time.  
  
    "Yeah...see ya later, Nick."


	12. Hello, Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Demarcus makes his final wish. In the present, Nick heads to Atlanta seeking a life-saving treatment.

\-------------------  
Baghdad - 1258  
\-------------------  
  
    "Yoshi and Demarcus spent the day sleeping, buried deep beneath the sand to avoid the deadly rays of the sun. That night, they caught up with the caravan, and one by one, attacked the thieving soldiers who had sought to enslave others. Most were asleep, while only two stood guard. Yoshi quickly demonstrated to his new pupil how to approach in silence, sink his fangs into unguarded flesh and drink his fill, then snap his victim's neck in two. Demarcus had never killed another human being before. But his newfound thirst for blood made it easy for him to take a life without mercy. As he and Yoshi went through the camp and sought out all the soldiers, one of the enslaved women awoke and screamed out in alarm when she saw a monster attacking one of the men.  
  
    "Soon, everyone was awake. Demarcus came forward to let his people know that their captors were dead and that now everyone was free to go. But instead of being grateful and happy to see him as he had envisioned, the people were terrified of him. They cowered from his approach and cried out in fear when he ventured too close. They knew him to be dead, but now he stood before them, his skin smooth and pale, not burnt by the sun as they had last seen him. He tried to speak to them, to tell them not to be afraid. But even the girl who had been betrothed to him since birth, was too afraid to be near him. She accused him of being a devil and begged him to return to the underworld where he belonged.  
  
    "Yoshi knew it was useless to try to convince the people that no harm would come to them. He pulled Demarcus away before the crowd decided to drive the demons off with fire. At that point, Demarcus understood that he could never go home again, that he was no longer considered human, so he went quietly with Yoshi. He still owed the vampire a debt, and in the nights that followed, he worked diligently to solve the puzzle and grant Yoshi his request. When at last, the puzzle opened and it was time to make a wish, Demarcus had all intentions of speaking the words that the vampire had instructed him to. But deep in his heart, all he could think about was how he hated what his life had now become. He wished desperately that his village had never been raided by the soldiers in the first place, and that none of the other terrible things had come to pass. He never uttered the words aloud. He merely wished them with his heart and mind. Then, as he was about to say what Yoshi had wanted him to, the smoke in the crystal spear swirled about to form the words, 'As you wish.'  
  
    "The next instant, the puzzle disappeared from his hands, and Demarcus looked up to see that he was no longer sitting in the middle of the desert. He was in his own home, sitting up in bed. He thought perhaps that it had all been a dream, but it had seemed so real. When morning came, he told others of his experience, but no one believed such a strange tale. However, the elder in their village gave it more thought. He felt that perhaps what Demarcus described had been a sort of premonition of things to come if they did not take precautions. He had heard of people in distant villages being taken from their homes and made into slaves. He decided that it would be wise for them to prepare against such attacks. As for the rest of the dream, it was blamed on the effects of eating a bad date before bed. Demarcus knew better than to insist that his dream had been reality. It was enough to simply have his life back to normal, and his people safe once again."  
  
    "But what of Yoshi?" asked Nicholas when he realized that Shalimar had come to the conclusion of her tale. "Did he not get his wish?"  
  
    "No, he did not. Even though Demarcus had not put his own wish into words, the magic puzzle heard his thoughts and acted upon them. And though he was pleased with the way things had turned out for himself, he felt regret that Yoshi had kept his part of the bargain but was left unrewarded for his troubles. As for Yoshi, his search still continues, and perhaps someday he will find someone to make that wish for him. He has all of eternity in which to look."  
  
    Nicholas rose from the bed and walked over to her. "I can think of better ways to spend eternity than searching for a silly puzzle box," he said, as his hand reached beneath her veil to caress her throat. He was very hungry now, and the young beauty before him was oh so appetizing.  
  
    "Did you not find the story pleasing?" Shalimar asked, her voice trembling slightly as her heart beat rapidly in fear. "Shall I come back again tomorrow night?"  
  
    Nicholas started to remove her veil so that he could steal a kiss, but he knew that if he did, he would be tempted to do much more than that. He had made a bargain with her, and decided to honor it before it was too late. "No," he said as he drew his hand away slowly and stepped back. "There's no need for you to return. I shall find further entertainment elsewhere."  
  
    The dark, brown eyes which had been wide with dread, now gleamed with suppressed joy. "Thank you, my lord," she breathed in relief. After offering a quick bow, she turned to leave, but stopped when she heard her name called out softly. She canted her head to show that she was listening. The words that reached her ears, carried a warm and gentle tone.  
  
    "I shall inform the king of what a great prize he has in his harem and impress upon him that he should take care and treasure you always. You possess a wonderful talent for storytelling. Thank you for sharing your gift with me."  
  
    Shalimar glanced back at him in surprise. Even with her face covered by the veil, Nicholas could easily see the timid smile that formed beneath. The harem girl offered a simple nod of acknowledgment, then quickly and silently departed.  
  
\-------------------  
Present  
\-------------------  
  
    Nick glanced out of the window into the darkness and saw the approaching bright lights of Atlanta. He anxiously looked forward to getting off the plane, hoping that the simple act of landing would help to make him feel better. Flying had never bothered him before, but then he had never flown as a mortal. He'd already thrown up twice during the flight and was still feeling rather nauseous despite taking his medication. On top of that, an uncomfortable tightness had begun to develop within his chest, making breathing difficult, and a  blossoming headache was threatening to cause his brain to explode. He knew that he should probably tell Natalie about his newest symptoms, but decided against it, since there was little she could do to help him at the moment. Besides, they'd be on the ground and on their way to the hospital soon enough.  
  
    The only perk to being sick and traveling in first class was that the stewardess made sure that he was the first one off the plane. A wheelchair was already awaiting his arrival at the departure door. He had no energy whatsoever to debate whether or not it was needed. Except for some minor coughing, he was silent as Natalie pushed him along the airport terminal on their way to baggage claim. As they approached the restrooms, he informed Nat that he had to go. She looked at him worriedly, and Nick feared that she might be considering following him into the men's room.  
  
    "I'm okay," he spoke assuredly, just barely able to suppress another cough. "I won't be long."  
  
    She nodded reluctantly and wheeled him as far as the entrance before he took over the wheels and disappeared from view. Natalie decided that she could use a trip to the ladies' room, but did what she had to do in record time. When she emerged, she saw that Nick had not returned yet and figured that it might take him a little extra time. He was still looking a bit green around the gills and his stomach might still be upset. Natalie walked across the way and into a gift shop where she plucked out a couple of free brochures on Atlanta from a convenient display. She stood outside the gift shop, out of the way of traffic to study the brochure, unaware that she was being watched.  
  
    He had spotted her from a distance. The thick, auburn curls cascading over her shoulders were what had caught his attention first. She was leaning against the wall to his left, with her eyes focused on the tourist map she held open in her hands. LaCroix had contemplated simply walking past without making her aware of his presence, but reconsidered at the last moment. He knew she wasn't alone. She was undoubtedly waiting for her companion to join her. Perhaps he was at the ticket counter or picking up their luggage. The old vampire wasn't quite sure how he felt about seeing his ex-child again, but he had to admit to a nagging curiosity concerning Nicholas' mortal life. It would be interesting to see what new developments the last few months had produced.  
  
    Natalie was so absorbed in her map reading that she wasn't even aware of his approach until he stood directly in front of her. His soft, but chilling voice made her jump nervously the instant she heard it. She gaped up at him, shocked to see a surprisingly warm smile grace his features.  
  
    "Dr. Lambert. A familiar face in a sea of strangers. What are the odds?"  
  
    "LaCroix! What--?"  
  
    "I've just come from Las Vegas," he answered her unspoken question. "Wonderful nightlife they do have. I'm on my way to Paris now. It appears that the Atlanta airport is a required stopover for practically any final destination. And, if I may ask, where, pray tell, is your destination, my dear?"  
  
    "Oh, well...we're here already," Natalie answered him, finally managing to subdue her unease at seeing the vampire again. "Atlanta."  
  
    "I see. Not exactly my idea of a vacation getaway, but I suppose it has its attractions. And I take it that our dear Nicholas is close by?"  
  
    "Uh, yes. He had to...." Natalie gave a nod towards the opposite side of the terminal.  
  
    LaCroix glanced over his shoulder and saw that they were directly across from the restrooms. "Ah, answering the call of nature then." Looking back at Natalie, he noted the sparkle of diamonds on her finger and reached out to take her left hand in his. "It would appear that congratulations are in order," he said upon viewing the wedding set more closely. Then his eyes returned to her face and studied it carefully. She appeared somewhat worn, but that could have been due to the hassles of traveling. Beyond that, however, LaCroix was able to detect a certain glow about her. He glanced down at her barely protruding belly and cocked his head downwards to fine tune his hearing. Even with the din of airport noise surrounding them, he was still able to pick up on the faint and tiny, second heartbeat.  
  
    "You are with child," he stated, taking her completely by surprise.  
  
    "Ahh....yes. How did -- never mind."  
  
    "It seems then, that life is treating you well. You have everything you wanted."  
  
    "Yes, I have," Natalie responded flatly as she pulled her hand out of his loose grasp.  
  
    "And yet, you don't appear all that happy," LaCroix noted the less than enthusiastic expression on her face. "Could there be trouble in paradise already?"  
  
    "No," Natalie answered a little too quickly. "No trouble. Look, LaCroix, Nick will be out any second. I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be here when he does."  
  
    "Why not? We're very old friends. Surely, a chance meeting in a crowded airport could do no harm. A quick chat over the latest events in his life before we part and go our separate ways once again. Why would you want to deny me that? Could it be that you're afraid he might get certain ideas in his head if he should see me again? Afraid he might want his old lifestyle back?"  
  
    "Not in a million years," a familiar voice spoke out from behind him.  
  
    LaCroix turned around, expecting to come face to face with his estranged son, but quickly had to readjust his line of sight and look downward to gaze upon a stranger in a wheelchair. It took the vampire a moment to realize that the pale, thin, ghost of a man before him, wearing a surgical mask over his face and a Toronto police department cap on his obviously, bald head, was none other than his beloved Nicholas. The almost lifeless, blue eyes with dark circles beneath them, proved to be only slightly more recognizable.  
  
    Nick pulled down his mask briefly in order to offer a weak smile as he greeted his former master. "Hello, LaCroix."  
  
    "Hello, Nicholas," LaCroix managed to get out after the initial shock had worn off. "You don't look well."  
  
    "That's probably because I'm not," said Nick as he replaced his mask. "You'll have to excuse this. I have to wear it to help cut down on the risk of infections."  
  
    "Your blood disease?"  
  
    "Yes. I figured you knew about it already. Would have been nice if you had clued me in."  
  
    "You would not have listened. You would not have believed me."  
  
    Nick shrugged mildly. "Probably not."  
  
    "I take it then, this is not a honeymoon or vacation trip?"  
  
    "No. I'm here for treatment."  
  
    "Treatment you were unable to get in Toronto?"  
  
    "Experimental treatment."  
  
    "I see. And perhaps a miracle cure as well?"  
  
    "Perhaps."  
  
    "And what of our little magic box? No assistance there?"  
  
    "No. I'm afraid something else came up that was more important."  
  
    LaCroix followed Nick's soulful gaze over to Natalie and understood perfectly. "Yes, one must have one's priorities. So, this miracle treatment, are you confident that it will be effective?"  
  
    "Yes," Nick answered without hesitation. "They've had good results with other patients in my condition, so I expect to do well with it."  
  
    He could sense that he was being lied to, or perhaps Nicholas was merely lying to himself. At any rate, LaCroix decided to play along. "That's good news, indeed. I wish you all the best. However, should you decide to take a shortcut back to health and longevity, I'd be more than willing to offer my services."  
  
    Nick knew exactly what his father was suggesting. He had thought long and hard of what he would say and do if the situation had presented itself. Naturally, he had no desire to die, but reentering the world of darkness that he had fought so desperately to escape, wasn't an acceptable option. To run into LaCroix unexpectedly like this, made Nick wonder if this was some divine test he had to pass before being allowed to crossover to join his sister in the afterlife.  
  
    "Thank you for offering," Nick spoke politely, "but I believe we can manage on our own. It was good to see you again, LaCroix," he added as a way to say that their meeting was now over.  
  
    LaCroix stared back ruefully for a moment, then softly uttered, "I wish I could say the same, Nicholas." He held his son's gaze a few seconds longer, then offered a curt nod of good-bye to them both before swiftly turning about and walking away.  
  
    "Wow, talk about your coincidences," said Nat as her gaze followed the vampire for a moment as he strolled resolutely down the terminal. When she heard the sound of harsh coughing, she immediately turned her attention to Nick. He had his head bent down and his eyes squeezed painfully shut as his body shook with the sudden need to clear his lungs.  
  
    "Nick, are you all right?" A hand to his forehead revealed that he was running a fever, while a red stain on his face mask indicated that he was coughing up blood. "Nick?"  
  
    "Nat, I don't feel so good," he shakily admitted.  
  
    "We'll get you to the hospital right away."  
  
\--------  
  
    As he sat, waiting for the announcement to board his plane, LaCroix tried not to think of the pathetic creature he'd just met. That thing back there had not been his Nicholas. His Nicholas had been handsome and virile and full of the wonder of life. That hollow man in the wheelchair had been homely and fragile and smelled of impending death. He wished he'd never seen him that way, because it was near impossible to shake the vision from his mind. He had known of the illness previously, and knew that Nicholas would suffer, but he had not expected the devastation he'd just witnessed. He desperately wanted to rescue him, to spare him the pain and distress of his illness, but he had given his word not to interfere. He could not force his gift if it was not welcomed.  
  
    Still, he couldn't help but wonder why circumstance had brought them together again. Either fate had a cruel sense of humor or it was trying to tell him something. He leaned more towards the latter when, after a forty minute wait, a voice came over the loud speaker and announced that due to mechanical difficulties, his flight to Paris was being cancelled. LaCroix contemplated what action to take next. It had to be more than just a coincidence that he ran into his son in the first place. Now that he was being forced to stay in the city a while longer, he assumed that it had to be for a reason. That reason, of course, was Nicholas.  
  
\--------  
  
    Natalie sat in a chair next to the bed and stared solemnly at her husband as he slept. Nick had been diagnosed with acute pneumonia, and due to his already weakened state, the condition was considered to be life-threatening. There was little to do but wait and pray that he responded well to treatment. It was hard for her to stand by and watch him deteriorate, knowing that she could do nothing to help, other than hold his hand. It was so unfair, she thought. Nick was a good man who had paid his dues for the wrong he'd done in the past. He didn't deserve to have this happen to him. And she didn't feel that she deserved to lose him.  
  
    "You've got to pull through for me, Nick," she spoke tearfully to the man on the bed. "You've got to live so you can be a dad to Little Nick. He needs you. _I_ need you. We didn't come all this way just so you could give up. Please, don't give up, Nick. I know it's hard for you, but you have to hang in there. You have to fight. You promised you'd fight it. Please, Nick. Stay with us.... Stay."  
  
    "I'm afraid you're wasting your breath," came an unexpected reply from behind her.  
  
    Natalie jumped to her feet and turned to face the unwelcome visitor. "What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Nick.  
  
    LaCroix walked over to the foot of the bed and gazed down grimly at the frail figure that lay there, connected to a wide array of equipment designed to do everything from helping him to breathe to disposing of bodily waste. "I've come to offer my assistance," the vampire directed his comment to the woman standing nearby while keeping his eyes on the patient in the bed.  
  
    "He already told you back at the airport that he didn't want your help," Natalie reminded the vampire.  
  
    "Then perhaps you could convince him to change his mind. I assume you don't want him to die. An immortal Nicholas is better than none at all, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
    "He's not going to die!" Natalie responded emphatically while still managing to keep her voice just above a whisper. Her eyes bored into the vampire unflinchingly as she spoke. "As soon as he recovers from the pneumonia, he can begin his treatment for the cancer. Nick is tough. He'll pull through."  
  
    "I beg to differ," LaCroix responded knowingly. "He is at death's door. I can sense it. What's more, I believe you can sense it as well. Look at him, Natalie. Is it truly fair to him to allow this tragedy to continue when you know it can be prevented?"  
  
    Natalie cast her eyes upon the love of her life, heartbroken over what he had become and terrified at the prospect of losing him to cancer should he manage to pull through his bout with pneumonia. It was more than tempting to give in to the words of the man standing beside her. A vampire Nick was infinitely better than a dead Nick.  
  
    "You know," Nat sighed despondently, as she looked up at LaCroix, "not too long ago, I probably would have accepted your offer to help. When my brother Richard was shot, I begged Nick to bring him across because he was practically all the family I have left and I couldn't stand to lose him. And because Nick loved me so much and couldn't bare to see me unhappy, he did as I asked. But it was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I think it would be a terrible mistake to bring Nick back across. He made it clear to me that it's not something he wants to happen, and he trusts me to make decisions for him when he's no longer capable. It doesn't matter what I want, LaCroix, or what you want." Her gaze shifted back to her husband as she added, "It's what Nick wants that counts. And he wants to be mortal. Whatever else happens, he wants to be mortal."  
  
    "Then he will die," LaCroix pointed out. "And your child shall never know its father."  
  
    "Oh, he'll know," Nat vowed solemnly. "I'll make certain of that."  
  
    LaCroix sneered at her, then moved to stand on the left side of the bed. Staring down at Nicholas, he was tempted to go against his son's wishes and force him into becoming a vampire. There was a time when he would have done just that, but the commitment he'd made not to interfere in his child's life, still took precedence in his mind. The only way he could help his son was to get Nicholas to agree to accept it.  
  
    The vampire gently grasped a pale, limp hand, mindful of the wires and tubing that were attached, then leaned in close to speak in his ear. "Nicholas," he called to him softly. "Wake up, Nicholas and listen to me." Weary eyes fluttered opened briefly, then closed again. "Nicholas, you are dying. I'm sure you know this. You must allow me to help you. I can put an end to your suffering. I can take away the pain. I can give you life. Tell me that you want to live, and I can make it so." The eyes opened again and focused on the face in front of him. After a brief moment, the head moved, just barely, in a negative motion, but it was enough to answer the question. "Are you saying that you would rather die, Nicholas?" asked LaCroix in stunned disbelief.  
  
    When he received a slight nod in response to his question, LaCroix looked urgently to Natalie. "Talk to him," he implored. "He will listen to you."  
  
    Nat folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. "He's already made his decision, LaCroix. I won't try to talk him into something he really doesn't want to do. I know you think you'd be doing him a favor, but he wouldn't be happy. He'd be alive, but inside, where it counts, he'd be utterly lifeless. So maybe you should just go now."      
  
"Very well," LaCroix replied, successfully concealing the hurt he felt at being rejected. "Then I shall bother you both no more." When he started to let go of the hand he'd been holding on to for the past few moments, LaCroix felt Nick's grip tighten faintly to prevent him from leaving. "Yes, Nicholas, did you want to say something?"  
  
Nick whispered to him through dry lips. If not for his superior hearing, LaCroix might have missed the message altogether.  
  
    "Letter?" LaCroix questioned, his brow denting in confusion. "What letter are you referring to, Nicholas?"  
  
    The effort to speak was too great, so Nick looked towards Natalie and managed to convey a message to her with his eyes.  
  
    "Do you mean one of the letters you left back at the loft?" Nat asked. When she received an affirmative nod, Natalie looked up at LaCroix. "I saw him with several envelopes back at the loft," she explained. "He put them in the jewelry case he keeps on the table behind the couch. I think that they're probably good-bye letters he wrote just in case..." she paused to choke back a lump forming in her throat, then continued. "In case things didn't go too well here."  
  
    LaCroix felt the faint grip Nicholas had on his hand, drift away. The eyes closed once again, but this time in unconsciousness. There was no reason to remain any longer. LaCroix knew in his heart that his son would not awaken from his comatose state. He turned away from the bed and quickly walked out of the room without looking back. He was unsure of where to go upon leaving the hospital. It seemed too ridiculous that with all his power, he was unable to save his child. He wondered what cruel trick of fate had brought them together this one last time and yet offered no means to repair the damage done by them both. Perhaps, he thought, there was some answer, some type of solace to be found in the letter that Nicholas had written to him. He could always go to Paris later. A side trip to Toronto might prove to be worthwhile.  
  
    He returned to the airport and attained a seat on the next plane out. It was an hour before dawn when LaCroix finally reached the warehouse his Nicholas had called home. He entered through the skylight, landing silently in the darkened living room. After switching on the lights, he headed straight for the jewelry case which Natalie had mentioned. Inside the small, wooden case, he found five envelopes. Each had been addressed with only the name of the individual that was meant to read it. There was one for Natalie, for Schanke, Baby Knight, Janette, and the last had been addressed to him. LaCroix impatiently ripped the letter open and read the contents silently to himself. His mind automatically used the voice of Nicholas to speak the words his eyes took in.  
  
\----------  
  
     _Hello, old friend._  
  
_Please forgive my penmanship. My hand is a bit shaky today but if I don't write this now, I don't know when I'll get another chance._  
  
_Where to begin? I suppose if you're reading this, it means I have lost my battle with mortality. You can snidely say that you told me so. My new life hasn't been exactly what I'd hope for or expected. I have been diagnosed with leukemia, which, I suspect  you already knew I carried the disease in my blood. I imagine that's why you tried so doggedly to keep me from finding my way back to mortality. I have begun treatment, but I fear it is pointless. I sense my demise is near._

_I thought how unfair all this has been; to finally get what I've always wanted, only to have it snatched from my grasp so soon. I can hear your voice in my head reminding me that life itself is unfair and the world owes me nothing. The fact is, I owe the world for my past sins and indiscretions. This is my punishment for the centuries of cruelty I've dealt to others, and I should face it bravely._

_Still, I admit to wanting to seek you out and asking you to bring me across again. At least, as a vampire I would be around to see my child grow up, but it would have to be from a distance. No driving him to school or to little league games, or sunny, vacation trips to Disneyland. It would be more torturous for me to live as a vampire and not be a part of his life and Nat's. And you know my poor track record when it comes to me and mortal women. Eventually, I would be driven to taste Natalie's blood and drain her dry just as I've done with so many others. That, I could not bare. So if I cannot continue life as a mortal, I have chosen not to continue it at all._

_As for Natalie, I respectfully request that you not harm her in any way. Please continue to keep your distance and allow her and our child to live in peace._  
  
_I'm getting very tired now, so I will bring this to a close. You have been like a father to me, LaCroix. Undeniably overbearing and oftentimes annoying, but I know in your heart, you care deeply for me. Love me. And in a way I can't begin to fathom, I feel the same towards you. I forgive you all the hurt you've caused me over the years, and ask that you do the same for me._

_Farewell, my father, my brother, my friend._  
  
_Yours forever,_  
_Nicholas_  
  
\-----------  
  
    LaCroix stared bitterly at the pitifully scrawled words. The letter he held, was suddenly spoiled by two unexpected droplets, seemingly falling from nowhere. "Damn you, Nicholas!" he growled angrily, his hands trembling in both despair and rage. He needed to lash out at someone or something; needed a way to release all his pent up anger and frustration. It started off as a low growl and grew steadily into a ear-shattering roar. Without conscious thought, LaCroix began trashing the loft, turning over furniture, smashing lamps and anything else that got in his path. The couch ended up halfway across the room while the coffee table landed in splinters in the kitchen. The vampire took exceptional dislike to the hospital bed, and it would have flown out of the window if the metal shutters had not been closed.  
  
    Eventually, the rage drained from his body, and LaCroix dropped to the floor to sit with his back against the upturned bed. He sat motionless for a long time with his elbows on bent knees and his hands covering his bowed head, allowing the numbness to take over his body.  
  
    "I shall never forgive you this, Nicholas," LaCroix spoke in exasperation. "How dare you even...."  
  
    He didn't bother to finish the thought. Lifting his head, he glanced about at the destruction he'd wreaked, then felt a rising sense of panic when he realized that his letter had been lost somewhere within the chaos and debris. It was the only thing he had left of his Nicholas; the only proof that his child harbored no hatred for him. LaCroix rose up on his hands and knees and began searching almost franticly for the precious piece of paper. During his search, he came across something else of interest. A trash basket had been overturned, and among its spilled contents was a strange little cube. He picked it up and frowned at it in disgust.  
  
    "You! This is all your fault," he declared spitefully. "You did this to him." LaCroix started to destroy the cube by crushing it in his hand, but suddenly thought better of it. "Perchance you can undo this mess as well?"  
  
    He stood and walked over to the couch, then reached out with one hand and set it upright. He first made himself comfortable on the edge of the leather arm, then casually began to maneuver the sections of the puzzle into new positions. It took much less time than he thought it would, and within a matter of seconds, the dragon came out of hiding. When urged to make a wish, LaCroix considered carefully what he wanted to happen. His first thought was that it might be best for all concerned if the damn puzzle had never been found by Nicholas in the first place. But that would simply put them back where they had started, with his child still running away from him and seeking to be human. If he should stumble across a way to become mortal later, then the whole problem was sure to raise its ugly head again.  
  
    All LaCroix knew for certain was that he wanted Nicholas to live; wanted him to regain his health and to find happiness and prosperity for years to come. Being a vampire was not as big an issue, but hopefully someday, he might choose to return to him. It was hard figuring out just how to put his desire into words. Finally, the vampire stated with a modicum of uncertainty, "I wish...I wish my Nicholas well.... I wish him well."  
  
    The exposed crystal informed him that his wish had been granted, then promptly covered itself up again. LaCroix sat for a long moment, wondering how much success his wish had achieved. Perhaps he should have been a bit more specific, but it was too late now to make changes. He'd simply have to call the hospital in Atlanta to see how Nicholas was doing. Of course, that depended upon whether he could even find the telephone among all the destruction. As he raised up off the arm of the couch, he sensed the sudden presence of another vampire in the room. He spun around and came face to face with a smartly dressed, dark-haired man, slight in stature and of Asian descent. The man bowed in greeting, then introduced himself.  
  
    "Forgive my intrusion," he spoke softly. "I am called Yoshi. And you seem to be in possession of that which I have been seeking for a very long, long time."  
   
\---------------------  
Sometime Later  
\---------------------  
  
    Nick smiled down proudly at the small, pink bundle he held in his arms. "I can't believe how lucky I am," he sighed joyfully. He glanced over to Nat who was pressed cozily against his side as they shared the narrow hospital bed together. "Thank you," he offered her a kiss along with his gratitude for presenting him with a beautiful and healthy daughter.  
  
    "Well, I couldn't have done it without your help," Natalie smiled in return.  
  
     "Nat. I still don't know what I did to deserve you and all the happiness you've given me."  
  
    "You ever stop to think that maybe _I'm_ the one being rewarded here?"  
  
    "Well, that would explain things. After all you've put up with, you definitely deserve a reward."  
  
    "We both deserve it. Though, I just hate to think what would have happened if LaCroix hadn't gone back to the loft and found that puzzle. Who would have guessed that he would be the one it would choose. Really weird how all that worked out. It was if it had all been choreographed in some divinely, bizarre way."  
  
    "That's why they call it magic," said Nick with a thoughtful grin. After glancing at his watch, he asked, "Do you think it's too late to call?"  
  
    "Well, there's only one way to find out."  
  
\--------      
      
    LaCroix picked up the phone on the first ring and placed it to his ear. "Hello?"  
  
    "It's a girl!" an excited voice announced cheerfully.  
  
    "Congratulations, Nicholas. Apparently everything went as anticipated?"  
  
    "Everything went smoothly. The baby's fine. Natalie's resting. How's everything there?"  
  
    "Not to worry. All is well."  
  
    "Good. Well, I've got to go take care of some paperwork now. I'll hang around here for a little while longer, and be home as soon as I can."  
  
    "No need to rush, Nicholas. Take your time. I have everything under control."  
  
    "Great. Thanks, LaCroix. I'll see you later."  
  
    After hanging up the phone, LaCroix looked down and saw that the young boy who had fallen asleep sitting in his lap earlier, was now wide awake. "Was that Daddy?" the child asked.  
  
    "Yes. He called to say that you now have a little baby sister."  
  
    "Can I go see her?"  
  
    "It's very late. Perhaps tomorrow."  
  
    "I fell asleep, Uncle. I didn't finish hearing the story."  
  
    "What's the last you remember?"  
  
    "I think it was around the part when Yoshi went to see the general."  
  
    "Ah, yes. Yoshi asked the general to make a very special wish for him. He wanted to be more like humans, to be able to eat normal food and walk in the sun, among other things. And the general thought to himself how he would like to be able to do that as well. So, after making sure that his son was truly alive and well on the road to recovery, the general set to work on solving the magic puzzle again. When it opened up and asked him to make a wish, he made a very special one for both Yoshi and himself. The two were still vampires with all their secret powers, but they could now enjoy so much more that life had to offer. Since his long search was now over, Yoshi went off to seek new adventures in far off lands. The general, on the other hand, decided to spend some time getting reacquainted with his son and having a taste of normal life. And as far as I know, that's what he's doing to this very day. The end."  
  
    "That's a good story, Uncle."  
  
    "Yes, it's one of the nicer ones I know."  
  
    "Is it true?"  
  
    "Now, Little Nicholas, you know there's no such thing as vampires. They're only make believe creatures, like the Boogieman."  
  
    "That's a relief," said the child with an overly dramatic flare. "I sure wouldn't want to be bit in the neck by a vampire."  
      
    LaCroix ruffled the boy's blonde curls and smiled. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, my child. Even if there were vampires about, your parents and I would never let them harm you."  
  
    "Will you tell me another story, Uncle?"  
      
    "It would be my pleasure. Are you familiar with 1,001 Arabian Nights?'  
  
    "No, I don't think so."  
  
    "Then you're in for a treat. But first, what say we raid the fridge? I believe there's still some of that delectable cherry pie left. And perhaps some ice cream as well?"  
  
    "Yeah!" Little Nick squealed with delight. "Oh, wait. I'm not suppose to have sweets before bedtime. Mommy says it's bad for me."  
  
    "Yes, well, mommies always say things like that. It's their job."  
  
    As they headed hand in hand into the kitchen, Little Nick suddenly thought of something. "Uncle, you never did say what the general's third wish was. Everybody else made three wishes. What about him?"  
  
    "Yes, well, the general did make one final wish, but I'm afraid it was rejected."  
  
    "What was it?"  
  
    "He wished to be reunited with someone from his past; a once in a lifetime love named Fleur. She was an extraordinarily kind and beautiful woman who died a very long time ago. Yoshi told the general that some wishes are too much for the magic puzzle to handle, and so they go unanswered."  
  
    "That's not fair," Little Nick pouted.  
  
    "One thing you will find, Little Nicholas," said LaCroix as he picked the boy up and set him on the kitchen counter, "is that life itself is not fair. Quite often, one does not get what one wants. However, when your parents are away and Uncle is around..." LaCroix paused to open the freezer door and pull out a carton of vanilla swirl ice cream, "...that's quite a different story."  
  
    "You know what I wish, Uncle?"  
  
    "And what is your wish, mon petite?" LaCroix asked as he began to prepare their late night snack.  
  
    "That you and me and Mommy and Daddy and the new baby and all our friends, will live happily ever after, forever and ever and ever."  
  
    "A very noble wish, indeed," LaCroix smiled. "I wish the same thing too."  
  
\--------  
  
The end


End file.
